Life just shy of normal

When I turned 16 my parents got me a car so I could drive around all their other kids. However, my dad was not interested in spending any money. So he hatched a brilliant plan to save as many cracker jack prizes as he could and cash them all in to buy a car. He scoured the earth to find the cheapest car he could find. He eventually got me a 1980 Chevy Luv. This car was more worn down than anything I had ever seen before. I quickly named it the Truck of Dead or Tod for short. I think that Tod may have been driven straight through the center of hell just to ruin my life. The biggest issue with Tod was not how unbelievably ugly he was, or how he looked like he was ready to disintegrate into a pile of dust at any moment. The biggest issue with Tod was that I didn't even know how to drive him. Tod was a stick shift. This was terrifying for my 16-year-old brain. Thankfully, my father made up for his cheapness by being very patient. Every night he took me on practice drives all around town. 

Every day after school, I would walk over to his work and wait for him to drive me home. However, one day I had a horrible day at school and I just wanted to go home and lay down. But my dad told me that he had to work a couple of hours later that day and I would either have to wait or drive home myself. I had been practicing my driving for a while so with a lot of encouragement from my dad I worked up the courage to drive Tod home by myself. The drive home was mostly a straight shot except for one left turn. This was the turn that I had nightmares about. I was terrified to do it alone but I was already in the car so I had to do it. I got up to the light and it was red. I was filled with relief because I assumed the light would be a green arrow and I could make the turn easily. Unfortunately, fate was not that kind to me. 

The light turned into a solid green light which meant that traffic would not stop for me and I would have to manage it on my own. My heart sank. I started to sweat everywhere as I waited for a gap to form in traffic. A nice long gap in the car emerged and I started to make the turn. However, Tod was not gonna let me get off that easily. The car stalled. I panicked and restarted the car only for it to stall again. Tears started to flood my eyes and I restarted the car over and over again with no luck. I looked out my mirror to see a cop car approaching me. I started to freak out even more. I was certain that I was going to go to jail and never drive again. As I was balling my eyes out the cop pulled up next to me. As he got out of the car and watched as I pleaded with Tod to just move the cop opened the door. “Is this your first time driving stick alone?” he said. Through my tears, I nodded my head. “It’ll be ok, you will get better,” he said. He told me to get in the passenger seat and he drove the car out of the intersection. He told me to get back in the driver's seat and told me what to do. He put his lights on and followed me the rest of the way home and made sure I was ok. 

My point in telling this story is to show an example of a pretty bad day for me. Everything just seemed to get worse and worse and worse. Pretty much everything that I could imagine to go wrong, went wrong. But one thing that I never paid attention to was the good. All the good that happened that day. That police officer was incredibly kind and patient with me. Safe to say that after this event, I was prepared for anything to happen to me in that car. In life, if you only pay attention to everything bad in your life, then of course you will be sad. It is so easy to do this though. Sometimes it can feel like nothing is going right for you. But it is important to know that there is always good. I can not promise you happiness just from hearing this, but what I can promise is that if you try and focus on the good. Things will seem better. It is very hard, but there are things you can do. Try making a list. Every day write down everything that went well that day or made you feel happy. And it can be anything. Maybe you cracked an egg perfectly today. It can literally be anything. Make this list and love it. Let's hope that by paying attention to these things maybe things won't seem so sad all of the time.

I have two conflicting chronic diseases. They are usually at war with each other. I imagine my insides fighting an internal civil war. And it hurts a lot. On one side is my inherited disease, vascular Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. VEDS is my body's inability to make collagen. The other side is arthritis, which creates inflammation all over my body. Both are incredibly painful.  This war did not start in the last two weeks. It's been raging for years. However, it has only gotten worse in the past couple of months. In addition to my deteriorating condition, my body will flare up seemingly at random. I rarely can pinpoint the cause of the flare-up; it's as though my body has to take a break from the constant fighting and shut down. I used to wonder what was causing it. Maybe one of the 46 daily medications I take has lost its effectiveness. Perhaps I accidentally slept on the wrong side of the bed. I honestly do not care anymore. It is pointless for me to worry about it because there is nothing I can do.

I have learned to accept what it is. I try to explain to people that push me about what is happening that it's like being sucked into a rip current of a giant ocean wave; all I can do is roll with it and let it carry me away instead of fighting against the tide's pull. I have pushed myself harder these past months to endure it with more patience and hope. So when I wake up in the middle of the night with a sharp type of pain because I rolled over slightly, and it dislocated my shoulder and hip simultaneously, I try to change my viewpoint from upset to hopeful. Dealing with the fact that significant joints in my body slide out of place like a melting popsicle left out in the sun by a child requires an enormous shift in the paradigm I employ from frustration towards acceptance or spirituality. I am trying to cope with it, knowing and feeling grateful that the pain will help me become who I want to be. I often remind myself that even when a radioactive spider bites you and gives powers quickly, fulfilling your duty to the world's people will still end up with a building falling on your head. It provides comfort to believe that good things will come out of the pain. Having that viewpoint can make it instantly better. 

For me, however, the true struggle is not my feelings about my chronic diseases but the unwelcome and unhelpful advice given out freely by well-meaning, although incredibly clueless, people. As hard as I try, it is still difficult for me not to become instantly irritated when people suggest that all of my health problems will miraculously go away if I drink homemade kombucha daily, try the vegan diet, or eat a tarantula with hot sauce dancing around a bonfire singing "who let the dogs out" backward in german. Usually, I swallow it deep down and try to uphold people's expectations politely. I know they mean well and are just trying to help. Unfortunately, it's not something that can be helped. Not by my doctors, not through prayers, and not by well-meaning people who wish they could help relieve my suffering. The only true help that I can receive is the quiet peace and the promise that I receive from my Savior, knowing that he understands and loves me and that my affliction will be concentrated for my good. I trust that this pain will be what I need to be a better person, to be the person I was sent here to be. And I am so grateful for it. Other people might have broken hearts when they see me or hear my story, but I don't. I feel special that my savior stands by my side. I feel empowered to trust him and know that all the pain is doing its job and helping keep my eye focused on my Savior. And I love him for it.