Fiercely Independent Pam

Category: Memories

  • Appearance Matters: When Chronic Illness Steals Your “Look!”

    No matter how hard I try to pretend that my appearance doesn’t matter to me, I always know it does. During the pandemic, I was very sick. I spent more time in the hospital than home and had many rounds of tough medications and treatments. All of this caused havoc on my body and its appearance.

    I was on steroids constantly and not just a little Medrol pack or short course, but iv and high dose Decadron for months at a time. At one point I gained so much weight, so quickly that my stretch marks began to pull apart and tear the skin. The steroids allowed me to continue breathing and it was stressed to me that I needed them. I spent half my day on a non-invasive ventilator and sometimes the whole day. All of this took an amazing impact on my appearance.

    When you add on the complications of the pandemic- not really going anywhere or being able to get to a salon, the results were dramatic to my appearance. Besides the stretch marks, which I continue to battle with every day, my hair was thinning and falling out. My once thick curly/frizzy hair became baby fine and a simple act of brushing it or washing it, led to major loss. My eyebrows thinned out as well and became almost non-existent. I hated my appearance, but also was so proud of myself for surviving.

    Fast forward to October 23, 2020, I made myself an appointment at my favorite salon for a hair cut (shape) and color. I remember it was surreal to deal with the rules of the pandemic and wasn’t able to have it blown out or dried. A simple visit became a statement that I was going to “win.” Treatments weren’t going to hold me down and hold me back. I radically changed my appearance from a worn down- sick person, to a warrior, determine to fight my demons and not let the scars win. I chose to go red and loved the color change.

    Little did I know that I would eventually have to shave my entire head for brain surgery. (Click here for more about that). My hairdresser at that amazing salon was with me through it all! She is a perfect example of a hero without a cape.

    I will continue to not let the hard days win by ignoring my appearance when necessary, but celebrating it when possible. Today, I continue to fight with my hair- but love the curls God granted me and the wild, unpredictable nature of having curly hair.

    As for the stretch marks- I am at a loss. I have decided the best thing to do is embrace them as battle scars. They stand as a testament to all I have won! While not the convention of beauty, I find them amazing- a statement of what our bodies can do for us!

    The result of my beauty treatment at the salon- notice the awesome color, but also the crazy thin hair and hairline.

  • Gifts: My Formal Love Language

    Yesterday, I received an unexpected gift from someone. This gesture made me think about gifts in general. I love finding the perfect gift for someone. Sometimes this means I randomly give a friend something for no “real reason” except to see their reaction to what I found. Other times this means that when I am expected to give a gift, say a birthday or holiday, and I can’t find something “good,” I get frustrated. Gifts are definitely my love language. I love giving and receiving them.

    As an educator, my desk, office, or classroom was always filled with special gifts. Sometimes it was a dandelion, other times it was a memento from a family trip. They were and still are special because a child or parent thought of me when they were doing something else. My apartment (and storage unit) is filled with these special gifts. I love seeing them on a regular basis. For the most part, I can tell you who gave me what and what the occasion was. From the little Eiffel Tower from Paris to the set of diamond earrings, they bring a memory to life for me.

    I am blessed with many friends who love to give gifts too. The many treasures throughout my apartment that remind me of deep relationships with college friends turned sisters, roommates, and mentors throughout the years. I am a sucker for a good memento and my dusting challenges reflect that. After I moved into my current community, I was able to unpack these important pieces of my life. The chalkboard piece from SHM School, the random Mickey ears from Disney trips, my collection of crosses from students and families, and of course my favorite M&M collectibles, all have a special place in my living quarters as well as my heart.

    Gifts are a way to share a special moment, they allow us to speak of love without saying a word. My inbox currently reflects a random purchase for a friend. Not for an upcoming birthday or event, but just something that I know speaks of caring for that person- a simple, “I thought of you today.”

    How do you gift? Do you like giving and/or receiving gifts? What is your most treasured gift?

  • Facebook Memories: A Love/Hate Relationship

    Every morning when I awake, I do the same things. First I take off and clean my mask connected to my non-invasive ventilator, then I turn the light on, followed by checking in on my phone. The last piece always includes a look at my Facebook memories. Apparently, this day included many memories, some good, some more painful, and others are a smack in the face of my “previous life.”

    Today also marks a month that I have been home without a hospital admission since April. Almost a half of this year was spent being admitted, treated, and discharged from various local hospitals. I love being home and in my routine of things. This isn’t the life I dreamed of, but it’s important to make the most of it. I am sure I will look back at this date on Facebook and see the month milestone and laugh about it.

    According to Facebook a year ago today, I ended up admitted at MUSC. My brother drove me down to the ER and they, of course, treated me well. I so wish MUSC was closer and didn’t take an act of congress to get there.

    Facebook also reminded me that only four years ago I took on a challenge. I signed up for and completed a 15 mile swim for the American Cancer Society in honor of my Dad. I collected pledges in exchange for my hard work, swimming 15 miles in a month. It was the last time I attempted something physical from my body. Swimming has always been a part of me and I am so grateful for the times I swam in college on the swim team. Hopefully once this picc line is out, I will attempt swimming again. This memory reminds me of what I use to be. I am a finisher- 3 half-marathons, a few 10K’s and lots of 5K’s made me a runner, not a very fast one, but a finisher for sure. Now, I look forward to my latest challenge- cardio rehab and working my way towards better health.

    With the exception of self-cathing, the hardest medical learning curve was when I had a peg tube. This feeding tube was my only source of nutrition and for a while, hydration as well. I was not prepared for the emotional impact feeding tube would have on me. I was confused, lonely, and missed the socialization of eating with others. I took my formula every couple of hours, hoping and praying that I didn’t throw up. It was down right miserable. There was never a cause found for my inability to swallow or digest foods properly. Another medical mystery to be added to the list. Facebook reminded me that five years ago, I claimed my life back and the peg tube was removed.

    There were some non-medical Facebook memories as well. An awesome video of Sofi swimming in my parent’s pool for the first time when we escaped there from hurricane Florence. She was so agile then and loved getting in and out of the pool. As expected, there were memories that seem so distant to me as well. These are the memories of my professional life. The computer lab working again, meetings with parents, the stress of Sunday nights.

    I am not sure I would want to re-live any of these memories, but there are there, reminders of a life that was. I am not that person anymore. My hours spent are now my own, and the focus is on improving me, not a school or something similar. I often joke that my medical journey will “Make a nurse out of me, yet!” These memories that appear on Facebook, remind me of all the medical adventures that I have had.

    What about you? Do you check your Facebook memories? Are they good memories?