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Almost forty years ago, in my first 30 minutes in the US, while taking the bus from the airport to the hotel, I met the most overweight person I have ever seen in my life.
Tag: <span>autoimmune disorder</span>
Last night I cried for Celine Dion, a woman we all seem to know without knowing her at all. Her latest film, “I am Celine Dion” the most honest documentary I have ever seen, shows her struggle with her disease at the end of the film.
Seven weeks have passed since I started the chemo-drug Methotrexate. Sadly, my dose has increased, which seems to be normal -a fact they didn’t share with me at first. Once a week, I meet the Nightingales, that’s what I call them. A form of endearment, a tribute to Florence Nightingale and all the others who followed in her footsteps, and take care of us when we need them the most.
I love to cook and I enjoy good food but these days I have to listen to my body, which is attacking me at all times if I don’t eat right. Autoimmune disorders, in my case an inflammation that affects my small joints. Pain, and joint stiffness, endless fatigue, and brain fog I should get a patent for. All gone if I stick to a healthy diet. Too much protein is my downfall, sugar drives me mad, gluten inflames my gut, dairy, including my beloved cheese, has become my archenemy.
“I am a patient” I whisper in my head
and I should be treated like one.
Please take care of me
as I lie in this bed
with my insides burning
scared to death of this disease.
My bones ache
I tremble and sweat
and cry staring out the window at the parking garage
where my car is, waiting for me to escape this nightmare.
I wish I could say I’m here because I’m brave
but the truth is I’m trapped here by my body’s rebellion
It is true, I had a cooking blog. I love to cook and enjoyed writing about it. I shared some of my European recipes with my blogging friends. The blog was called “Bringing worlds together in my kitchen.”
I wanted to write about this since a while, but I never really found the right words, so I kicked the can down the road. This week I heard the sad news about Glenn Frey’s death and that gave me the motivation I needed to write about it. I didn’t even know that Glenn, a founding member of the Eagles, was sick and tortured by the same evil disease.
I am a terrible patient, know too much and know too little, question everything and question it again, when I am not satisfied with the answers I get. I am always looking for explanations, do my own research and don’t take “No” for an answer.
…or should I say a world out of balance?
I am almost shocked, how can this not be known? Why haven’t I heard about it? Was I living under a rock for the last 20 years? Maybe I just didn’t want to hear any more bad news and didn’t pay attention? Yes, this must be it.