#potsible

The date you first got sick?

The time you scarily landed in the ER?

As someone who has a chronic illness, those dates are burned into my mind.

I may not know your name 35 seconds after you just told me, but you could wake me up from a coma and I’d know the exact time and place when I first started feeling the symptoms that’d become my POTS.

I’m coming up to one of those blasted anniversaries, and I’m trying to remind myself that my POTS doesn’t go by any calendar or moon. The fact that 12 months has passed doesn’t mean that it’ll have a repeat performance, or I’ll slip back to where I was one year ago.

I’ve made progress. I’ve changed many things in my life. And some arbitrary date on the Gregorian calendar doesn’t dictate my health. My rational brain knows that.

But I’m trying to calm the irrational side of me. I’m making a list on the positive life changes I’ve made since I was in the ER almost a year ago. The new doctors. The new, positive medication. The meditation. The religious wearing of the compression socks!

All the things that differentiate last year to this.

Deep breath...

How do you deal with those anniversaries?

Do they bother you? Or do you pay them no mind and I’m the psycho (joking)?

You’ll have a moment where you think, “Oh jeepers, this is it. I’m going to pass out in 3... 2... 1...”

But then it passes and you’re still conscious. You’re upright. A little woozy, but you’re on your feet, if only metaphorically.

And the next time a spell hits you, instead of thinking that this is the “one,” you compare it to your last spell.

And if that mf-er didn’t take you down, this wimpy one doesn’t stand a chance.

Chronic illness does this to us. It gives us strength. It gives us perspective.

Chronic Illnesses age you prematurely.

I’m on the same medication as your grandparents.

Everyone in my cardiac rehab group was alive during WW2.

I carry a pill organizer, wear compression socks, and routienely tell people I have to sit down.

Not your average 30-year-old.

But this most recent flare up of POTS forced me to buy a shower seat for my bathroom. I put it off for as long as I could because my pride felt like this was one step away from signing up for LifeAlert.

God I was wrong.

If you have any type of othrostatic intolerance, get one now. If you don’t, fuck it, get one anyways.

I thought I used to love showers. I would stand there for ages in the hot steam until my poor little heart couldn’t handle the heat anymore.

But now... whoa... Game. Changer.

It’s like having my own personal spa in my bathroom. I just sit and let the water cascade around me, with zero fear of passing out anymore. Beware, I’m super late for work everyday now. But I’m in the best mood when I waltz in the door 20 minutes late.

Up until this shower seat, I’ve had no need for the pulsating shower head. I know it’s purpose - I too have seen every romcom and sitcom ever. But now, I see the light. Sitting with your back to the heavy pressure of water?

Not quite the same - but you get it.

This isn’t the best written endorsement of the shower seat, but do you know why? Because I keep daydreaming about the next shower I can responsibly take without depleting all of Earth’s fresh water.

Tomorrow morning. I’m actually looking forward to a Monday morning.

And that’s the magic of the shower seat.

For the first time in the 10+ years I’ve had POTS, I’m experiencing severe brain fog symptoms:

- There’s a feeling of detachment, like I’m not connected to my body.

- It takes me a couple moments to remember things - like how my water bottle got filled, or how I got from point A to point B. I can eventually remember, but it takes a beat to find the answer. It’s not like I’m at point B and don’t know how I got there, but the small details are missing. Like I don’t remember everything when walking from my car to my office. I hope I’m explaining this correctly.

- I have to really focus on important things, like driving. My mind isn’t wandering, per se, but I’m straining to focus.

- I don’t feel like I’m fully retaining memorable moments. Fun trips and holidays seem like TV shows I’m watching instead of remembering.

Does this seem familiar to anyone?

What have you done to help this?

I see my doctor in about two months, so anything and everything is helpful!

For 2018, I wanna start a Chronic Illness Fitness Club!

I’m taking suggestions on names, like:

Sweating Spoons! 

Strong, Fit, and Probably Sitting

Do What You Can!

Spoonie Strong

Our Pre-workout is Different than Your Pre-workout

I'd like this to do a couple things:

Help Tumblr Spoons chronicle their progress and their journey

Crowd source the best exercises, routines, and methods for the many varieties of spoons out there

Give others hope. For those who can’t at the moment, we can share where we’ve been and show them how far they can go.

Is there any interest? Anyone want to join me? 

You don’t have to run or lift or do crossfit to do this! Any type of exercise and as much as you can do is what we’re looking for!

Did you achieve something physically? Did you reach some goal? Are you crushing those steps? Cranking out laps around your yard or block? Able to stand in line at the Apple store for an entire hour?

All activity levels! All inclusive!

We have until January 1st to come up with a great name and a great tag.

Tfw your heart rate is actually good...

Your blood pressure is normal...

You’re not tired or faint...

Ok. What’s going to go wrong next?

Getting in some light conditioning before SPOONIE STRONG 2018! 

See my previous posts about the Chronic Illness Fitness Club starting in the new year.

Anyone else gearing up? Stretching? Conserving energy? 

Tag your posts with #SpoonieStrong2018 so we can find each other! 

Diagnosis: Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (10+ years) 

Workout: 

30 minutes - Weights 

10 minutes - Elliptical (Intervals)