I have wished for a long time I could get into this blogging bug that so many people seem to have. Life always seemed to get the better of me, I lacked the time, or really anything interesting to write about. I'm a stay at home mom...so what. Actually, that isn't true anymore. I work part time. There are loads of funnier, wittier, more heartwarming or piss yourself laughing blogs about motherhood out there. I am not worthy.
So I want to change it up. I want to give myself some challenges, and write about it. Online journal of sorts, I hope some others like me will find this and join in. I hope to make a difference. I hope to cause some laughter, tears, and light bulb moments. I hope you'll join me. Motivate me. Keep me going. Because I sure as hell am going to need it! Here goes!
I have an ABILITY. I am so not ready to put a dis in front of that word. Someday it may come to that, but not anytime soon if I can help it. I am unsure if I ever blogged about this, or have even talked much about it. But it is starting to kick my ass, but I refuse to go down without a fight. I have Limb-Girdle Muscular Dystrophy 2A. Diagnosis came in 2006. I had joined the military in 2001 (before 9/11) and made it half way through boot camp before going into beginning renal failure. I don't think the Army could discharge me fast enough! I know they knew something was amiss, but they never told me, just said I was unhealthy and unfit for duty. After having Jonathan, I had to visit the oncologist to do all sorts of blood work to find out if I had a clotting disorder. Renal issues again, they wouldn't let me leave until they pumped me full of fluid and made an appointment with a nephrologist and a neurologist. Kidneys weren't looking to hot, and he was convinced I had some other sort of metabolic disorder. I ignored it all. I didn't want to deal with it. Fast-forward to being pregnant with Jacob. Had the normal 20-week ultrasound done, they spotted issues with my kidneys, so I had to have further testing. And then the neurologist sent me to a neuromuscular clinic...after Jacob was born I went in for a muscle biopsy, and then more kidney testing. More blood work...and more blood work. Only to receive a phone call in June 2006 with my neuromuscular doc telling me "you have muscular dystrophy" over the telephone. Yes, the telephone. And I have ignored it. Until now. Maybe it was denial. I had read up on it, but I didn't fit the description. I was fine. I've given birth and survived THREE children. I survived almost 2 phases of boot camp. This is ridiculous.
So here I am now. I keep hearing horror stories that people are in wheelchairs 10 or so years after symptoms appear. Or at least walking with a walker/cane/crutches. I am on year 11. No walker. No cane. And most certainly no wheelchair. But I feel it. This disease is slowly creeping up on me. So I am going to challenge myself. I'm going to go back to the neurologist, back to the nephrologist, and get baselines done. I need to revisit both anyway. I am going to exercise. Daily. Starting with at least 1 mile walk a day, along with some weight training. Crunches. Oh how I hate crunches. But due to growing three watermelons in my stomach, my muscles were stretched to the max, and there isn't much left. I need to build them back. Crunches work. I need good core muscles...wonder if I can get a 6 pack? Or at least close to it???
I've made my decision. I really really really want to sit back and cry about this. But I'll be damned if I give in to a wheelchair. I've never gone down without kicking and screaming, and I refuse to start now.
