Thursday, March 12, 2015

Being Beautiful/Cushing's Info.


 

There were so many first liners that I wanted to start out this post with! I picked this quote that was on Susan Branch's blog at one time. -

Cushings Syndrome,  Cushings Disease, Prednisone - all these topics could be googled by some soul looking for answers, Readers!

I mulled over several as the conversation was further in the past, in which a stranger pointed out the elephant in the room; me. Literally. At least it 'looks' that way. I will post some modest selfies and you will see that it is the distribution of the 'fat'.

This quote seemed to not go with my thoughts a few days ago- but then I thought that a lot of the time we HUNGER to look beautiful. In the past, not knowing, I bought make-up, clothes, had contacts, got braces, - all things to look more pleasing to others but mainly to me.

I worked out. I actually loved being involved in the game. Michael Jordan was definitely one I wanted to be like. Or at least I liked him.





The thrill of stealing the basketball from someone then charging down the court and softly laying the ball up and letting it kiss the glass before falling through the net was a feeling I could only appreciate after hours of drills that included practicing something over and over and over.


The burn in my legs and bum from getting into the squatting position and then zig-zagging the court over and over is fresh in my memory. I think cause I'm in therapy. Oh, and we were rear ended. That will pull muscles and hurt. Don't get me started on rolling an ankle in basketball season...


Image result for picture of michael jordan and his be like mike commercial

Either way, these drills were drilled into our bodies. So when you did make that once in a life time move (where you were the HERO for the day) ; it felt good. I would continue running after the lay up
and make a small semi-circle then return to where I needed to be and "ready" defensively for the person who was now one on one with me.




Who I would do my best to be a blanket to so she wouldn't be available to get the ball.

There is the feeling of conquering the mountain of a day hike that is hard. The hot, sweaty feeling of hiking out of a valley at top speed so you could hang out in the parking lot and wait for the parents.


It was bliss. When you were in shape. There are so many things to be seen when you are able. Right?
It gives you a thirst for more. Which is why, I think some things happen. I have had a person tell me they felt sorry for me because I hadn't "seen" or "been" anywhere in the last while due to being unable.

Are you kidding? I have read so many books that I have taken me places that are made of dreams.
Lately, not so much. But I have. And Readers, this morning I want you to know it. I need to remind myself of it.

And help others understand. I doubt they are reading this blog so it will just us, however, I need reminding that I don't know or understand everything. I lack compassion. All of us at one time or the other have our moments when our "filter" for compassion and tact is off.

A man said something to me the other day.


He must have meant well. It was awkward- even for the people around me. People who had been strangers but had led conversations with me in the short moments that we shared while we waited.


 They had been strangers too but as we had talked of life, kids, their different stages and ages and about the weather; we came to respect one another. Soon it was my turn to leave and I got up. An older man, in good shape, came and replaced me in the seat.


I dropped something. You know me, Readers, I had two purses I was juggling. I had to have my computer, which I didn't even pull out due to the need to rest and the occassional conversation.
I dropped my water bottle and asked the man if he would hand it to me.

He did and looked up and down at me, at my boot. My stick. And he said..... something dumb.



Those waiting with me, waited to see how I would respond. I wondered how I would respond too! The words came and I told educated him and the older, in really good shape Grandpa, was left stunned. I wasn't rude.

The moment, when I heard the comment that made me give a small disertation upon my "condition", took me by surprise. How could that happen when the sun was shining brightly outside?

I was torn with being funny, informative, or shooting myself in the foot. Which has a boot on it.

 Not the cowboy kind but the kind Bella wears to prom in Twilight.  Edward put her, the boot and her other foot, that was wearing a Converse shoe, on his strong, diamond icy feet and she got her dance lessons.

So what is this post about? For my sake, it's about talking things that I hope help someone out there that may have Cushings Disease; Syndrome; have been hurt, need a good laugh, or cry; had Dr.s put you on prednisone and never took you off because they are professionals- and try their best, we hope, to do what is right.

Now, the shooting in the foot part comes from talking too much. Or maybe getting in people's photos and they trace you back to FB by "tagging" you. Or it can seem that way. Are we really our outside shell?

Beauty or Ugliness can filter through by how you think and act.  And I have been both. Inside and Out at times.

The truth is hard to find and see at times. And to be. Twice I had some conversations with women who needed the reassurance or the need to express the sadness they felt in the change of their body.

Years ago I was in a gift shop with my mom and saw someone I'd known from another time and place. She had changed physically. She was vulnerable as we stood there. Her account of how her life had changed broke my heart. She told where she was from; where her house was located- as if that meant a dark spot and she rose above it, only now to fall to literally the floor.

She literally sunk to the ground and looked at me and said: "I used to be a princess."

Risking mooning anyone in my hospital nightgown or ripping out my IV needle, I knelt down beside her and these words came without me even thinking:

 
"You Still Are."

It wasn't me telling her this. I was just the mouth piece.

Years earlier I had met another gal who would come into the Chocolate Candy store and pick out a favorite one. Or get a scoop of ice cream. She wore a turban on her bald head. Her face was round.

I asked her one day about it. If she was going to come get the divine macadamia nut and caramel chocolate Florence made so well, I was going to find out this woman's story.

She willingly told it. And more! She brought in a scrapbook of what she looked like before prednisone and cancer ravaged her body.

Whoa! I couldn't believe it. Until one day my face was round too.
It gave me strength to know her story. So I put mine out there. And helped Good Shape Geezer, Old Man know about disease, syndrome, and so forth.

Don't get me wrong- Cushing's is anything but sexy.



(Susan Branch's version of the ground hog for her latest calendar.  It was aptly during my birth month. )
It can be cute like this little fella. Heck, maybe he gets his groove on but if you have other aches and owies, it might be hard. Do-able but hard.
So even if you are hungry on prednisone, hunger for the beauty. And I will try to as well.








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