The Coronavirus Pandemic from the POV of a Chronically Ill Catholic

I just got off the phone with my doctor. She told me to ask friends to get the medication she ordered for me (and, eventually, food) because I need to stay at home during this time.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried.

I would be lying if I said I didn't experience at least one minor anxiety attack per day when (I'm sure) well-meaning people trying to "prepare" me with stats and facts go overboard.

I would be lying if I said that I don't cry every day from feeling overwhelmed by everything going on. Putting aside my own selfish fears for myself, as an HSP, I easily absorb the feelings of those around me so I feel it all.

The CDC released a list of 10 medical conditions that are most at risk for "severe coronavirus illness". On that was list was blood disorders... which I have.

I've suffered from chronic thrombocytopenia (low platelets) for over 12 years now. I've had chronic anemia (on and off) for the past 5-6 years. I also occasionally have pancytopenia, meaning that my platelets, red and white blood counts are all under normal count from time to time.

I also have additional factors that put me at risk -- a liver issue they're still trying to figure out, malnutrition from the multiple food allergies that have severely restricted my diet (I can only have 4-5 foods... period), and I'm underweight from the restricted diet and recently emotional toll of family and relationship problems I faced. They're also trying to figure out which autoimmune disease may be causing my bilateral optic nerve edemas as well as my other health problems. Right now, the two that are most likely are MCAS or Sjogren's Syndrome.

My mother, who is 65, works in a convalescent hospital where about 99% of the patients are over 75 years old. She has her own medical issues that put her at risk. With the news and everyone talking about the coronavirus 24/7, is it any wonder we're both stressed out?

That's part of the reason why I decided to take a break from Twitter. Yes, the other part was because people were being rude. I've received threats. I've been stalked. I've been made to feel like I'm absolute trash unworthy to call myself a Catholic or even a decent human being. I've had people twist my words and/or imply that I was an idiot because I've asked for prayers when I've faced difficult situations.

Some people act like they know my body and my medical history better than I do, scaring me by telling me my heartburn (which I've dealt with since my teens) is really a symptom of a heart attack and that I'm a complete idiot for not going to the ER because they are a doctor/EMT/nurse and they know better than I, a simpleton, do. Yes, please, advise me to go to the ER for a bad GERD/heartburn flare-up almost identical to all the those I've experienced before... during a time where it could be potentially dangerous for me to contract something more severe. And, for the record, yes, I just spoke to my doctor about how bad the heartburn got and she advised me to take medication, go on a bland diet, and drink a lot of water for it. But, please, continue telling me I'm an idiot for not going to the ER.

All of these things, plus news of the pandemic, have been taxing on my mental health... which exacerbates the physical symptoms, acid reflux included. It's a never-ending cycle, y'all.

Crying is how I release the tension when I feel overwhelmed. Crying... and prayer.

Prayer hasn't been easy for me these days. My mind wanders easily; jumps straight into all the fears for my health and those of my loved ones (mother, brother, friends, etc.) I can't concentrate. I occasionally have to force myself to go through my daily prayer routine but I get it done. This is what the devil wants. He wants us to focus on ourselves and our fears (he loves when we live in fear) and turn our back on God during these difficult moments. While it's hard, given our fallen human nature, to not think about our fears and ourselves, we must try.

I was blessed to have prayed the Rosary with two of my good friends via FaceTime audio earlier today. It was one of the handfuls of times this week I was able to concentrate a bit better while praying. I hope to continue being able to pray with them (and other friends) while we're on lockdown because it does help. I'm stuck at home all day and since my mom works 5 days a week, I'm often by myself. I know I'm an introvert but science has proven that we do need a little bit of human interaction now and then, especially those of us who are sick.

I agree that it's been awful to have public Masses canceled but I understand why the decision was made. Trust me, I have prayed for months to be able to attend daily Mass... and I was finally getting that desire fulfilled. I went from attending daily Mass to having to stay home because of the risks, something I struggled with obeying. My initial reaction was "flip that table! I'm going to Mass, virus or no virus!" In fact, when I went to my last Mass a week ago, I went knowing I was risking it... and I spent the entire Mass with palpitations. After that impulse calmed down and I really thought about how God would want me to take care of the body He gave me -- and knowing that I was dispensed from the obligation of attending Mass -- I made the decision to obey. Obedience is a pillar in the Benedictine spirituality and one that has been hard for me to cultivate as a very stubborn and independent person. I keep trying to remember that those who are spiritually more mature and have more medical knowledge than I do have placed these rules for a reason so I will humbly submit to them.

Thankfully, I've always known of additional resources for when I'm stuck at home -- I've even written two articles on it for EpicPew (4 Ways to Experience the Mass Even If You're Stuck at Home and Discover These Underutilized Catholic Websites And Resources!). I can watch Mass, even do holy hours, via online websites. Does that mean it's an easy transition for me? No! It's still difficult for me to be away from my parish and the Sacraments. Do you think I want to be away from my Beloved, in the tabernacle or the adoration chapel, just when I've realized that I want nothing more than to be His future bride as a consecrated virgin? No! It's especially painful for me right now; right when I've finally figured out what my true vocation is. Still, I obey... and I remind myself that He is with me, even when I'm at home.

Oh, and for those who may be new to the blog... this isn't the first time I've been without the Sacraments for a long period of time. I've gone several months without the Eucharist before (when I was put on a gluten-free diet and before I was able to receive low-gluten hosts) so this isn't new territory for me... but it's somehow now harder than ever because of where I am in my spiritual life and vocation discernment.

Instead of dumping on poor Archbishop Gomez like so many other people are doing, I'm going to personally thank him. As a chronically ill Catholic, I know what it feels like to be thought of as a burden to others -- to those who are healthy and are "punished" because some of us are physically weaker than them. I understand the frustration of those who want to be able to attend Mass and receive the Sacraments but can't because "weaklings" like me could be exposed to something, if not directly than through contact with someone in our family who is healthy and attended Mass but was possibly infected by someone else who is in a low-risk group. Yes, we need Christ and the Sacraments now more than ever, but he made an extremely difficult decision because he, as the spiritual father of the Los Angeles Archdiocese, wanted to err on the side of caution. It's called prudence and it's a virtue, y'all. And, who says God isn't with us in our homes and wherever we are at all times?

Do you think it was a decision Archbishop Gomez (and, likewise, other spiritual leaders across the States and worldwide) made lightly? No. I've heard from several sources that those closest to our Archbishop say it was a difficult decision for him to make; one that weighed heavily on him. He cares about us and our well being, no matter what some people say. I don't even want to hear from those of you who are calling him a coward or saying that he cares more about our bodies than our souls. Now is not the time to be uncharitable. Now is the time to get together and pray for our priests who are at the front of the line. They are the ones who, along with those in the medical fields, will be dealing with folks severely infected with the virus. They will be administering the anointing of the sick and/or last rites. They are the ones who will risk their own safety and health for others.

Need I remind y'all that receiving the Eucharist frequently is a luxury we've all gotten used to.. and often take for granted? I've read that St. Therese only received it once a month. Those who live in rural areas who share a priest with multiple other communities don't have that same luxury we do. We have spiritual communion we can do that is completely valid; something we can do multiple times per day from what I've learned.

We have the gift of technology that allows us to watch Mass being celebrated. We can get together with others at a distance to pray together; to bring comfort to one another during these trials through a variety of different platforms. I even had the opportunity to receive impromptu spiritual direction via FaceTime because I was unable to leave the house at the last minute yesterday (guess whose car broke down... again). We have so many resources at our disposals and we have so many opportunities to use social media and the internet to spread the Good News and bring God to others, yet we're using it to tear one another apart; to bring negativity and division instead of unity.

I know that my saying all of this will fall on deaf ears to some but I hope others will try to see things from the POV of someone like me.

I don't want to see negativity on my social media timelines, it doesn't do me any good -- emotionally, mentally, spiritually, or even physically (since my emotional health tends to be closely tied to my physical wellbeing).

I don't want people attacking anyone else, whether they're personally attacking me or someone else whose views differ from theirs.

I want us to unite, as the body of Christ, and pray for one another. Not just for those of us a risk but everyone else. Odds are you know someone -- a family member, a friend, a coworker, an acquaintance, your own parish priest -- who is at risk. Pray for them.

Pray for those in the medical field. Doctors, specialists, nurses, EMTs, even the staff at clinics and hospitals. They are at the front of the line... and then go home to their families who are also put at risk.

Pray for priests, even the young and healthy ones, who will witness so much suffering -- even if that suffering is in the form of devout parishioners begging them to do "underground" Masses because they're so desperate to receive the Eucharist.

Pray for those who have been infected, whether they're in recovery or are still suffering. Pray for their loved ones who hurt seeing them suffer.

Pray for the souls of those who've lost their lives due to this virus as well as their families and friends who are grieving.

Pray for those who are poor in spirit; those who reject God and those who don't know Him out of ignorance.

If you're a fellow chronic illness sufferer, may I suggest offering up our aches and pains -- physical, emotional, and mental -- for others? We have such a gift to give by uniting our suffering with that of Christ on the Cross. As Pope St. John Paul II reminded us in Salvific Doloris, we can offer up our suffering for the good of others. Think about it, Jesus was surrounded by those who were suffering before He Himself suffered the agony on the Cross. He knows what we're going through... and knew pain and agony far worse than we will experience. The graces He will pour out into the world will be greater and sweeter because He knows how much pain we're in and how much courage it takes to endure the pain for the sake of others.

Anyway, I just wanted to put my two cents in because I haven't seen anyone else share anything close to this on social media. Granted, I'm not on Twitter right now (well, not a public account) but I'm sure something would've eventually trickled in through friends.

I hope you're all trying to stay as calm as possible during this time. I know it's much easier said than done. However, I also think that we can grow by leaps and bounds during this time. God wanted us to be alive at this point in time for a reason. God will undoubtedly help us learn how to better achieve sainthood through these difficult circumstances, we just need to be open to it.

Please remember His commandments: Love Him first and foremost and love thy neighbor as thyself. Praise Him even when things seem to have hit rock bottom (a la Job) and be charitable towards one another.

Alright, getting off my soapbox now. I hope you're all doing well (all things considering).

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :)

Good News: a Possible Breakthrough in my Health Issues

((Before I begin, let me just wish you all a happy feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe! I wrote a bit about the same picture that's hung on my bedroom wall for the past (almost) 30 years on Instagram in case you want to read it.))

I thought I was ready for my hematology appointment yesterday morning. I was cool, calm, and collected. Or, so I thought until I woke up sweating cold that morning. That cold sweat didn't stop until after I saw the hematologist... an hour after my appointment was scheduled.

I kept repeating, "Jesus, I trust in You" from the moment I woke up... 2 hours early. I tried to go through my routine -- breakfast, prayer, and getting ready to go out -- at a slow pace. I had intentionally done it to keep my anxiety levels down. Whenever I felt them go up a bit, I would stop and repeat, "Jesus, I trust in You" three times before I would resume the routine.

Before I left, I stopped and had a conversation with God. Since I was home alone, I said the words aloud. I don't remember the exact words but they were along the lines of "Whatever happens, I accept. If it's Your will, it will be done. If it's good news, I will rejoice and praise you. If it's not good news, I know you will give me the fortitude to endure it. Whatever it is, I will sacrifice sleep and go give thanks at tomorrow's daily Mass."

I drove to my appointment with unusually clear eyesight (I've been having eye problems for months, remember?). I decided to listen to "The Benedict Option" audiobook as a distraction. I took a longer but clearer (read: less traffic) route to my hematologist's office. "If I get there late, I get there late. But I'd rather go calmly than stress myself out," I told myself as I drove to the office.

I got there on time... but I ended up waiting an hour before I was seen. See, the hematologist I've seen for the past two years is out of the country. While it wasn't confirmed, we think it has something to do with his work visa since he's a foreign-born doctor. He had a delay returning the last time his permit expired, too. Anyway, because of this (and the office being unsure of when he will return), they gave me a new hematologist. I was warned beforehand about this; there were rescheduled appointments and blood draws for it for weeks leading up to the day. I just didn't know the actual appointment would have a wait time of over an hour.

As you can imagine, I sat there sweating cold out of nerves. I didn't know if my pancytopenia (the medical term for low red and white blood count and low platelets) was still around; if I was healthier than I was since my last blood draw at the last ER visit I'd had, two months earlier. "Jesus, I trust in You" I said before I prayed the St. Patrick breastplate prayer and texted a good friend to help pass the time.

I was whisked inside and I waited for the doctor once again, this time in the exam room. My noontime alarm went off signaling the time to pray The Angelus and Sext. I had taken my copy of The Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary in case I needed it. I took out my Rosary beads from my pocket and began praying the Angelus. I had just finished praying, "And the Word was made Flesh.. *genuflects* and dwelth among us..." and was standing up when the new hematologist came in. "This is it. Jesus, I trust in You," I said internally.

I was ready for whatever God in store for me... or, again, so I thought. I won't keep dragging the story for y'all so I'll tell you exactly what he said.

After introducing himself he said he'd gone over my charts and history along with my latest blood work. The good news was that my numbers had gone up. My white blood count had miraculously jumped up to normal in record time, from 3.6 to 4.6. My platelets went up 33k (from 102k to 135k) and I’m now currently only 5k under normal range. My red blood count and hemoglobin are still a little low but are now closer to normal range. He said that, given my history and my steady (for the most part) numbers, he thought it all pointed to an early rheumatology/autoimmune issue. When I explained that the ophthalmologist had ordered blood work because he also thought I had an autoimmune issue that was causing my eyesight problems (my bilateral optic nerve edemas), he said that it just further confirmed his suspicions. He said that it looked like it was all early stages of whatever was about to unfold and that no treatment would be necessary at the moment; we'll just keep an eye on things.

This is the first time I've come close to getting a diagnosis on anything! I was surprised and relieved. After so many years of dealing with low platelets and the anemia coming and going, here we had a sort-of breakthrough! I immediately thought about how the words "leaky gut" and the theory many people have made that perhaps that's what's wrong with me have popped up in recent weeks. A parishioner friend of mine even lent me a book on healing the leaky gut when I went to Mass last Friday (the beautiful First Friday I wrote about here). That's not even counting the dream I had nearly two years ago in which I dreamt that St. Giuseppe Moscati had examined me and told me to do a bone broth diet to heal my gut; a dream that also featured St. John Bosco. I even screen captured the tweet for future reference.

Y'all know this tweet is old because I haven't used that profile picture in years. Also, my apologies to St. Giuseppe for butchering his first name. It was during the time when I was still learning about him.

Perhaps this is all part of my 54-day Rosary novena intention; I've been praying for better health and the ability to expand my restricted diet. A leaky gut will make it seem like you have allergic reactions to many things -- especially foods -- so this could be the breakthrough I've been praying for! I am definitely going to try healing my gut just in case this has been the issue all along.

Before I end this post, I also wanted to share one more thing the good hematologist said to me. As he was leaving, hand on the door, he stopped and looked back at me and said, "Are you married, planning on getting married, or in a relationship?" I confirmed that I did want to get married one day, but I didn't know when that would happen. He then said what I was not expecting, "With your history and numbers, you can get pregnant. You can have children as soon as you'd like. Usually, there are worries about platelets dipping for people who have ITP or other blood disorders, but it shouldn't be a problem for you." I was completely dumbfounded. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind (for obvious reasons) yet I felt an enormous wave of relief. God willing, I can have babies and not worry about it affecting my health (at least, not my platelets) because it looks like it may all be an autoimmune issue rather than a blood disorder.

I left the office feeling lighter, a lot more hopeful, and intensely grateful to Our Lady for her intercession and to God for everything.

I knew there was a reason why my appointments kept getting pushed back; why I had to keep rescheduling blood draws and appointments. Not just for the hematologist but all of them. I didn't know what it was but perhaps it all needed to happen so that a  new doctor could look at my case and apply their knowledge to my “medical mystery” that’s been baffling doctors for years. (side note: the hematologist is an older gentleman so he has more experience than my [close to my age] regular hematologist.)

So, that's my news. On day 41 of the 54-day Rosary novena, I received that wonderful news. I have another blood draw tomorrow to check for autoimmune things and inflammation markers prior to my ophthalmologist appointment on Monday morning. I hope that we get a little closer to the root cause of all my problems with it as well. Fingers crossed.

Anyway, I just wanted to share the news with y'all. I received a letter from my Oblate master while trying to finish up this so I'm going to go read that right now. And, yes, I just teared up because of the timing.  What are the odds that I would receive a letter from my Oblate master (who, along with the other monks, has been praying for my health) with words of encouragement regarding my health while writing this post with an update on my health? God, Your timing is impeccable!

I hope y'all have a lovely rest of the week!

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :)

When Life Goes Crazy and God Disappears

Yes, I know; it's been over a month since my last blog post.

Life has been... an adventure.

There have been multiple doctor appointments and still more to come.

There have been trips to hospitals, including an ambulance ride to the emergency room when I had chest pains that were so bad that they made my entire left side go numb; the EMTs wanted to make sure I wasn't having any heart-related issues. They turned out to be muscle spasms that I've still felt as recently as yesterday.

There have been plans to move forward in a couple of areas in my life... all while dealing with health issues.

Ah, yes... the ever-present health issues. While my platelets were within the normal range for the first time in over a decade for two (yes, two) blood draws, the anemia has gotten a bit worse.

I've also been waking up and going "blind" for a couple of minutes in the morning. It usually takes me to the end of the second or (more frequently) third Rosary mystery before I can see enough to keep going on with my day. I have an ophthalmology appointment on the 15th -- the feast of the Assumption -- to hopefully begin figuring out what's been going on these last couple of months.

And, to top it off, I'm either allergic to a big staple in my diet or it just ups my histamine levels which made me perpetually congested and teary-eyed until I stopped eating it a week ago. Why, potatoes? Why?! So, now I'm down to only two things that I can eat: chicken and corn tortillas. Can we say "malnutrition deficiencies"? Since I have major food allergy PTSD (it's no fun to feel your throat get swollen or like you can't breathe right after you've eaten something that has never made you sick before), it's going to take a lot of courage to try new foods while dealing with the fears I have of potentially having a severe allergic reaction. It thankfully hasn't happened yet -- my reactions have been mild to perhaps slightly moderate-ish so far  -- my doctors are having me carry an EpiPen wherever I go. Fun, right?

Are we seeing the adventure part, yet? Yes, it's been a wild ride.

Throughout all of this, I'm ashamed to admit that I fluctuate between trusting God and forgetting He's even here. This is straight-up, real talk.

Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my own fears that I forget Who ultimately has control of the situation. While I was amazingly calm during the chest pain/spams ordeal -- to the point where the doctors ruled out anxiety as a cause for the chest pains; I was praying the Rosary while going through the spasm pains -- I've had moments of pure panic where God isn't even in the back of my mind. And it's not like I even distrust that God has my back; I just forget because I'm so wrapped up in myself. It's absolutely horrible.

Lately, I've been wondering if I've gone through all of this as a sort of test. Not that God is testing my love for Him. It's more like God is allowing these trials to help me try to keep Him on my mind more often; to help me realize what areas of my life I need to work on to better my relationship with Him and strengthen my faith. Just looking back at how many times I didn't even think about Him versus how many times I remembered that God was in control has been an eye-opener. I have a lot to work on but I'm prepared to do that work.

All of this has always made me even more acutely aware of how much I am missing the Sacraments. How many times have I gone to Mass in the past 9 weeks? Once... at the retreat... because the chapel was literally downstairs and I could take the elevator down from where my room was and walk, even while dizzy and lightheaded and feeling faint, to it. Now that I'm back home and my health has slowly regressed and I have no one who can potentially drive me to Mass and feel comfortable enough help steady me if I feel a little lightheaded when standing up? No Mass for Emmy. Sometimes I'm too weak to even get out of bed, let alone walk downstairs or even drive to the nearest parish.

And, of course, that also means it's been that long since I've been to confession as well. I've had two mini spiritual direction meetings since but I haven't had a proper confession in weeks. My heart longs for it. I don't like being away from the Sacraments. I don't like missing Mass. I intensely dislike not having been to confession since shortly after my birthday in late May. The longer these things go on, the more distant and muddled my relationship with God feels.

I, thankfully, have moments of consolation where I feel God's presence, His mercy and love, in my life but those are infrequent and never last long enough. It's like I've taken up residence in the middle of the desert... in the middle of summer... during the worst heatwave ever recorded in the area. It's just plumb awful. Of course, just because I don't feel His presence doesn't mean He's not there. His existence isn't based on my dull human feelings. Intellectually, I know that... but it's still hard and it makes the struggle through the spiritual dryness even harder to get through.

I know that we all go through these rough periods in our lives and especially in our spiritual life. I know that great saints have gone through years or even decades (St. Teresa of Calcutta, anyone?) where they receive no consolation during their "dark nights of the soul." Sometimes I wonder if I'm ever going to feel that closeness with God ever again... but, regardless, I still keep going. I mean, I feel like a fraud most of the time (again, this is real talk, y'all) because I haven't been able to attend Mass or confession but I'm still trying to do the little bits I can do.

I'm still praying the Benedictine Office throughout the day. I still have my list of daily prayers I pray, including the (much needed) Litany of Humility. I still pray the Rosary daily. I still pray for those who ask for prayers; for those whom I love and care for. I still try to do the right thing even though, the longer I go without the Sacraments, the harder it is to not fall into temptation and occasionally slip up. Still, that somehow doesn't seem like enough to me.

So, that's where I am. I hope my health improves in the near future because I miss attending Mass, receiving the Eucharist, and giving my soul a nice scrubbing in the confessional. Heck, I just want to have enough physical stamina to do basic things like getting out of bed and making myself something to eat without help some days.

I may be crazy to do it but... there's going to be a big change happening in the near future for me. This big change has been a long time coming. It's going to make me face some of my biggest fears and it's going to take me away from everything I've ever known. I think you can sort of guess what I'll be doing with those clues. Again, I may be crazy for embarking on this journey in the middle of my health issues, but perhaps this is something I need to do to improve my health. I'm being vague about it now but I hope to be able to share some details after it's all said and done. Just, please, keep me in your prayers because the whole situation is going to be high-stress and I'm honestly a little worried about how that will affect my health in the process.

... did I forget to mention that life has been an adventure lately? I didn't even mention finishing novel three in the middle of all that craziness! lol. Yes, I'll blog about that soon, as well.

Anyway, this is all part of why I've been MIA lately. I know I've been slightly more active on Twitter but that's been due to the prayer requests when I feel like, "Okay, I need prayer warriors to help me out with this one." I hope to get back to writing more, especially now that novel three is done and I'm slowly getting through all the doctor's appointments (and the follow-ups to the follow-ups). I have 3-4 more appointments scheduled (for now) in the next month, two this week.

Breathe in... hold for 1... 2... 3... 4... and breathe out...  Repeat.

I hope summer has been kinder to y'all so far. Can autumn hurry up and get here already? Summertime and I clearly don't get along. ;)

As always, thanks for reading and God bless. :)

I'm Tired. I'm Angry. I Will No Longer Be Ashamed.

I know; I've gone weeks without updating. I have a good reason... which I wasn't going to blog about but I've reached the point where anger has taken over so now I feel like I have to speak out on this.

I stopped writing because I've been sick. Really sick. I know that, in the past, I've shared my health journey because some of you felt you could relate to it and no one else was talking about. A few months ago, someone I really admired and looked up to -- who shall be unnamed -- shamed me into not only staying quiet about it but also into deleting all my past posts about my health. Seriously, try to search for the posts; they're gone.

I won't go into details but let's just say that after our conversation, I felt ashamed for sharing my health journey -- which strongly ties into my spiritual journey. I felt like I was just asking for attention, even though I've never liked any attention and I thought that sharing my experience would help at least one other person who thought they were the only one struggling.

We live in a society that only posts "Instagram-worthy" pictures; who present perfect lives that seem unattainable and are envy-inducing. I wanted to be real and share the good that God has brought out in the middle of the bad. But, no. I was doing it for attention and, furthermore, "who's going to want someone who is always talking about her poor health? No guy will."  Ouch. Twist the knife a bit more because it didn't quite hurt the first time.

I've reached the point where I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for letting the person get to me. I'm angry that this has affected me in a much bigger way than I had wished. I'm angry that I've had to keep quiet and, basically, lie (by omitting what was really going on) to those closest to me.

No, I'm not okay. I was doing really, really well for a while and then, suddenly, my health took a massive nose dive. I haven't been okay for weeks. After a week of back-to-back bad news, I'm tired of having to plaster a smile and act like nothing's wrong. I'm tired, literally and figuratively. I have no energy left to keep up the facade.

There is beauty in suffering. I feel closest to God when my health is as bad as it is now. When I'm at my weakest -- mentally, physically, and emotionally -- is when I see the most spiritual growth. God has blessed me with my crosses (in the form of health issues and the loneliness that comes from being perpetually single and desiring a family) which have made me the woman I am now.

Do you know who I was before I got sick? I was a proud and vain girl. I hated who I was. Being sick has helped me rid of those terrible characteristics I always had growing up. I'm not fully where I want to be in terms of that -- I still have moments of pride and vanity -- but God has mercifully humbled me and continues to do so through these illnesses. If good things come out of my health struggles, I welcome them. I thank God for keeping me from a path that would've strayed me further from Heaven.

And, about the guy thing, you know what? If God wants me to remain single and always have that longing for a husband and children, I will offer it up for those who suffer. If I, as the person who shamed me into staying quiet said, end up single for the rest of my life because no man will want to help me carry my crosses, I know one man who will -- Jesus Christ. He didn't carry His cross and give up His life for nothing. I will just focus on my love for Him and unite my suffering to His. If there is a man, brave enough to accept me as I am, it will be a tremendous blessing but I am resigned to either outcome. It's about doing God's will, not my own.

So, no, I will no longer feel ashamed for sharing my faith journey and my health journey. If I want to ask prayers because I'm having a bone marrow biopsy on the 22nd (which I am; this is why I'm doing a double novena to Our Lady of Montserrat and St. Giuseppe Moscati, beginning today)... because my liver isn't functioning as it should... because my body is destroying my platelets and red blood count without any scientific explanation (which has my hematologist stumped)... because other things in my blood work came back abnormal... because I've been struggling with the depression that comes with everything I've gone through lately, I will.

Anyway, I just wanted to get that off my chest because I've been carrying it around for literally months and I was tired of it. I'm sorry for the rant but I just had to say it. Maybe now I will also be able to recover a bit better; not having to feel so alone and feeling like I should be quiet because no one cares about me or what's going on with me. Yes, I've felt that way for months.

Oh, and if you're wondering what this means in regards to my oblate retreat next month: I don't know. I got cleared by the hematologist to fly but not my primary physician. I should know (hopefully) tomorrow whether she also gives me the okay to go. In the meantime, I'm going to try to rest as much as I can, eat and sleep well, stay hydrated, walk for a minimum of an hour despite the fatigue (doctor's orders because my heart needs it), and keep my stress levels as low as possible so that my body can try to recover before the trip. I still plan on going, even if I have to find the additional funds to be able to afford a roomette on Amtrak if I cannot take a plane. If my doctor says I can't go, even on the train, I will refund anyone who wants their money back (from the GoFundMe fundraiser).

Anyway, now that I've given y'all an update and an explanation for my silence, I think I'm going to go take a nap. I've been feeling very exhausted -- I can't sleep enough hours in the day -- and I need to rest. I will gladly offer some of this up for anyone who could use the prayers.

As always, thanks for reading and God bless!

Dear God, Please Help Me... I'm Drowning.

Dear God,

Please help me... I'm drowning.

I've overwhelmed with school. No matter how many days and hours I study, no matter how well I prepare, I come up short. Sometimes it's because so many things come up at once -- things out of m control -- that I don't have enough time to study. Sometimes it's because my mental fog is so intense that I can't remember what I've studied. It will take a miracle for me to pass two of my classes at this point in time.

I feel restless and stuck...

I'm impatient and angry...

I'm weak and in desperate need of help that I don't see coming my way...

I trust in You but some days it's hard to feel that way when I have so many other things going wrong. On Monday I even wondered if my faith was strong enough to withstand everything that's been thrown my way this month. I know that's a rash thing to think in a moment of weakness but I don't think I ever felt as low as I did at that moment.

It's not that I don't trust You; it's that my human emotions can overwhelm me. It's my sensitive nature; it's what I've been fighting to overcome in recent months... and it's a Rosary novena intention I've been praying for the past 22 days. Thankfully, I know the moments will pass. I know that once I get it out of my system and cry to release those emotions, I will realize that I do trust You. I'm just a weak human being.

I know that in my weakness You make me strong. I know that in the darkness, You are there with me. I know that even when I feel unworthy and undeserving of Your love, You still love me.

I have no doubt that You put the verse Matthew 6:25 into my mind when I spent some time in front of the tabernacle, praying and sitting in silence. I was praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy -- during that 3 o'clock hour -- and the phrase "Matthew 6:25" popped into my head as clear as day. I couldn't remember what verse that was so I looked it up...

"Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life..."

I got the message loud and clear... but I still need help because I still have moments where I feel like I'm drowning... and there's no one else to help me.

Your will be done. I say it every time I get overwhelmed with school. I repeat it to myself every time I feel like quitting (especially after yet another academic set back) but I continue listening to the lecture videos and/or doing the assigned work because I feel like it's Your will and there's nothing more that I want than to do just that; do Your will, not mine.

On this day, the 19th anniversary of my confirmation, I ask for one gift from You: to send me help.

Whether it be in the form of a peer support system...

Whether it be in the form of charitable prayers from those who feel moved to say a prayer for me...

Whether it be from a priest or someone who can help guide me and help me regain my spiritual health...

Whether it be an inner peace that can only come from You, I ask for a little help.

I want a little fresh air to fill my lungs after feeling like I've been underwater for so long.

I know You will hear my plea and that, in Your mercy, You will do what I need. I will keep my eyes and my heart open for that moment.

God Has Humbled This Proud, Conceited, Vain Girl

(side note: I had this post/topic prepared before I decided to write about why I've given up writing my third novel so it will be published first; the novel news will hopefully be posted tomorrow.)

I was an extraordinarily active kid.

I was/still am a dancer. I took Mexican folkloric dance, swing, ballroom dance, waltzing, and drill team/cheerleading from elementary school through my freshman year of high school. To this day, you'll see me dancing in my apartment (well, only if I feel comfortable enough being the massive goofball that I am around you), dancing in the car, and sometimes in the aisles of the groceries stores when I forget that people can see me.

I was a tomboy who loved playing sports. I ran track, played handball, tetherball, and even baseball when the boys let me. I still remember being the only girl who would dare race against the boys to see who was the fastest in the 5th grade. In junior high, I mostly drill team until I had to choose between honors classes and drill team... and I chose the honor classes. After that, I played soccer, still ran track, and played basketball in my co-ed P.E. class. In high school (and I only went to public HS for a year and a half), I did dance for an entire year and then did a semester of co-ed P.E. I was one of the only two girls in the class who dared to play flag (American) football, basketball, soccer, and softball.

I also had my academic accomplishments. In elementary school, I was one of the chosen speakers of my elementary school graduation. In junior high, I tested into a more academically demanding track and had to choose between dance/popularity and academics. My parents drilled the importance of an education so it was a no-brainer for me. As a high school freshman, I (along with 4 other classmates) tested out of high school English so we took college-level elective courses with some seniors because they didn't have any English courses I could take. I developed severe social anxiety due to the bullying and mental abuse I received from both classmates and teachers so I lost an entire of school. They thought I was going to graduate when I was 19-20 through a charter school. I surprised them by graduating a year and a half early and I even gave the valedictorian/student speech at my high school graduation.

My health began to slowly decline shortly before I turned 18. Anxiety physically debilitated me and I'm sure my father's cancer diagnosis didn't help. I developed anemia for the first time when I was 18 and I was severely underweight from the anti-anxiety medications they'd given me. I recovered for a while but not before anxiety became worse... as did my health. I, who had no allergies as a child, suddenly couldn't eat or drink anything with dairy at 19. At 20, the egg allergy developed. I, who rarely missed school due to illness, became more and more sick... and there wasn't (at the time) an explanation. I returned to the Church in the midst of the uncertainty. The doctors then figured out that my (we now know) PTSD and social anxiety was the cause.

My academic career was terrible. I had to repeat a couple of courses because my health would sometimes affect things. Somehow, I was able to have lucky breaks and, despite illness and my father's death, I was finally able to graduate with my first Bachelor's degree. Quite a few years later than anticipated (I should've graduated around 2007-2008) in 2012.

I was okay for a couple of years but eventually, things began to decline again. When I was about 24, shortly after my father passed away, was the first time they noticed my platelets were lower than normal but no one bothered to check things out. It wasn't until I was 30 that they became more interested in getting to the root cause of my health problems, platelets included. At the time I'm writing this, I'm still a medical mystery to them since they can't figure out the cause (re: low platelets).

As many of y'all know, I overdid it and burnt myself out in mid-late 2014 when I did my first and second semester of my SLP degree... to the point where my health took the biggest hit. It took me until earlier this year to get my iron levels to the point where I was no longer anemic. After two semesters in grad school and a terrible car accident in late 2015, it took me a couple more months to recover my weight (I was underweight for about 2-3 years).

Things seem to be on the upswing and then... something brings me back down. Low platelets. Anemia. Anxiety. Academic failure. It's taken me several years to appreciate everything... and it's just now that I accept everything as being a part of God's will instead of trying to do things on my own, to the point where my pride makes me make terrible decisions.

I've recently realized that God has humbled me because it's been the best thing that could've happened. I was way too overconfident (read: conceited, proud, and vain) about... everything.

I was the girl who was always one of the top students. The girl who received academic honors. The girl who gave the speech at her HS graduation. The girl whose British Literature professor (during her freshman year of college) encouraged her to apply to Oxford University.

I was the girl who could whoop boys at a bunch of sports. I ran and hit faster than many of them. I wasn't afraid of getting hurt, bruised, or dirty.

I was the girl who was offered a contract with a major agency (that would've radically changed my life) when she was 20.

I was the girl who, at 19, was teased about being the first amongst her friends to marry because of the luck she had with the fellas.

I'm now the girl who (people assume) is always sick. I'm the girl who has to be careful during cold/flu season because she can't get a flu shot (egg allergy) and whose white blood count is rarely within normal levels (read: low immunity against viruses). I'm the girl who can't be in the heat too long because she has lower than normal blood pressure. I'm the girl who has to be careful not to cut herself because the low platelets could potentially make her bleed more than normal. I'm the girl who has to be careful about what she consumes because of the food and medication allergies.

I'm the girl who sometimes doesn't have the physical energy/stamina to even sit up or open her eyes on her most physically debilitating days. I'm the girl who gets winded simply bending down and standing back up. I'm the girl who can spend days lightheaded or dizzy in bed. I'm the girl who wishes she could dance more but doesn't have the energy to do so.

I'm the girl who constantly fails in the academic arena because sometimes her health is so poor that mental fog is ever-present, making it difficult for her to concentrate in lectures and/or remember what she studied for exams. I'm the girl who abandoned her second Bachelor's degree... then a Master of Arts degree... and then the second Bachelor's degree again.

I'm the girl who is seen as being a stereotypically lazy Millennial who just lays around the house, doing nothing. I'm the girl who wishes she could work to pay off her student loans but who can't because of her health. I'm the girl who wishes she could financially provide for her mother so that her mother could retire; this girl wants to take care of her mother.

I'm the girl who is currently working on something that she hopes to one day share with you all but, for now, let's say I'm working towards something that I hope will make my mom (and my father, wherever he is) proud. I'm the girl who, despite the want to do well on this thing she's working on, is having a lot of problems accomplishing the basic tasks because she constantly falls asleep and experiences too much mental fog to complete anything she begins.

I'm the girl with terrible luck with fellas (though, perhaps, still has excellent taste because 3 crushes from the past 8 years have ended up in seminary) and, at 32, is one of the last of her friends to marry.

I'm the girl who still has her moments of pride and vanity... but who God is humbling in a way that makes the girl cry tears of joy because (after much prayer in which asked to be cured has now seen that) it's the way He shows His love for her. It may sound weird but I feel like God continues to humble me in order that I may join Him in Heaven one day... which is my ultimate goal.

I'm the girl who has learned that it's okay to ask others for help... to be okay looking foolish... to be who she is, deep down, without worrying about how others perceive her or if others will like her.

I'm the girl who has learned that all the worldly accomplishments, all the riches, all the "luck", all that she experienced as a girl and a young woman aren't important. Doing God's will and choosing to accept the suffering that I need to endure is more important.

And, finally, I'm the girl who hopes God uses to get "through" to others who feel alone... unloved... hopeless... like failures... everything she herself feels at times. I pray to God that I may say the right words or do the right works; to help others during their own low moments. Even if I don't ever know about it and even if it's just one person during my lifetime, I hope I do good. I hope I do my part, through my weaknesses and failures, for His greater glory.

Some of you may say that it will be foolish of me to say this but: I really do hope God does continue to humble me to the point where my pride and vanity is as nonexistent in my being as possible. God has already helped me see how much this "mighty" gal has fallen... and I wouldn't have it any other way. I know that I will continue to be seen as dumb, weak, too sensitive, a failure, etc. and I welcome it. I would rather be seen as being an insignificant than being at risk of having my pride and vanity return to the levels they were at when I was healthy and had too many options in life.

I'm going to leave y'all with this quote from the saint whose feast day we celebrate today (it's still Tuesday in Los Angeles):

“We are at Jesus’ disposal. If he wants you to be sick in bed, if he wants you to proclaim His work in the street, if he wants you to clean the toilets all day, that’s all right, everything is all right. We must say, ‘I belong to you. You can do whatever you like.’ And this is our strength. This is the joy of the Lord.” - St. Teresa of Calcutta

I Should Be Angry But I'm Grateful

Before I start: happy feast of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary! I love focusing on this (Mama Mary being crowned Queen of Heaven and Earth) when doing the Glorious mysteries and I will do this extra mystery when I pray my Rosary tonight. Also, happy belated feast of Our Lady of Knock (which was yesterday). I did remember and I wanted to mention it on social media yesterday (Hibernophile in the house!) but I had so much going on that I didn't get the chance.

I've been incredibly overwhelmed in the past week. It's been a rollercoaster of wonderful moments and of low moments that could have become very discouraging but ended up bringing me closer to God. It would be too much to cover in a single post so here's the biggest part of it.

Last Saturday, I went to urgent care for my dizziness since I spent 3 consecutive days dizzier than I was used to. It was supposed to be quick trip since it takes forever and a day to get an appointment with my regular doctor but because of my history of low platelets (and considering that I'd had a lot of headaches over the past month), they wheeled me (I was so dizzy I couldn't walk properly) to the emergency room.

There, doctors first looked at my platelets and iron levels since those could easily be culprits of the dizziness and lightheadedness I've experienced for weeks. My platelets had taken another dip down but were still over the 100k level and it wasn't the lowest I've ever had them so they didn't think it was the cause. Since I had no other worrying symptoms, they discharged me.

Yesterday I had my (now) regular hematology appointment. It was a new doctor. I had low blood pressure yesterday (which can explain the constant lightheadedness) but she explained that my records show that it's normal for me to have low (but not dangerously low) blood pressure; that she herself has them around the same levels. I received the news that my iron and hemoglobin levels (and, basically, everything) were steady and I've been anemia-free for a couple of months now... but the fact that the platelets dipped for the 2-3 time this year wasn't sitting well with her.

They can't figure out why my platelets have been low for years. For a while, they considered that it was due to my folate and iron levels but those seem to have stayed within the normal range (I get the exact numbers in half an hour of when I'm writing them) so they ruled those out. I don't get sick often (as in colds or the flu; I can go years without a cold). I've never had surgery. I don't bleed easily or much when I get cuts or even when I go to the dentist. I continue to be a medical mystery to them for now... but that may change.

The doctor saw how exhausted I was yesterday; you just had to look at my face. You can't fake the fatigue I was feeling. 1) I'm not an actress (my face would easily give me away if I were lying) and 2) my conscience would eat at me if I had lied about that. I told her about when the fatigue hits the hardest, including after the consumption of wheat. She asked me to list all the symptoms I get when I eat wheat. She asked me if I had the same reaction with other carbohydrates (rice, tortillas, etc) and when I said I didn't, she zeroed in on gluten as a possible cause for my lowered platelets.

You know how I've blogged about gluten/celiac blood tests coming back negative in the past? Guess what... the doctors had either lied or they were overruled in the past because it had never been done! I had several doctors say that they were going to test it but they never did. I'm not sure if it was because they were resident doctors and their supervisors overruled the decisions, if the hospital didn't want to administer it until I saw a hematologist and my platelets continued to lower, or if I was simply lied to because they thought I was a hypochondriac with a history of anxiety but, whatever the reason was, it was never administered. They did do other autoimmune tests that came back negative (which is what I think they told was negative when I asked) but never for celiac.

I should be angry about it. I've been telling them for years that I've had a suspicion that my health issues (namely, the platelets) might've been caused by gluten. I noticed that my platelets went up when I went on an entirely gluten-free diet (and I even abstained from receiving the Eucharist for 6-months at one point) and how they go down when I reintroduced wheat into my diet. For whatever reason, nothing was done... until now. Again, I should be angry but I'm not.

I'm grateful that a doctor finally got past whatever loops had to be jumped to get me the tissue transglutaminase IgA test. I'm grateful that God gave me the strength and the courage to drive to the hospital (despite being as fatigued and lightheaded as I felt). I'm hopeful (and, honestly, also a little fearful) that this test may give us the answers we (Mom and I) have been waiting literally years for.

Having a positive celiac intolerance result would mean tweaking my diet even more which scares me in the sense that it would restrict my already restricted diet (can't have dairy, eggs, spinach, and some fish). It will also mean being more pro-active about my spiritual life because I would need to talk to the priests where I usually attend Mass about receiving a low-gluten host which is Vatican approved and which many people with celiac have been able to receive without a problem.

I've been praying about my health for years... since I was an undergrad at the CINO college when I first became aware of my platelets being lower than normal. I've resigned myself to enduring all the health issues for as long as necessary as long as it was God's will. I know that I'm going through all of this for a reason unbeknownst to me but which will be for the benefit of my soul.

At the same time, I've prayed that I get healthy so that I can live out what I believe to be my vocation in a manner that would not be burdensome on anyone else. Even if it takes longer (at least 3 months since I won't get my results for this test until November 20th), I know that it's all part of God's greater plans for me and I just need to accept that with as much patience, grace, and courage as needed... which I know God will give me.

I have so much more to say but I think this is enough for this post. The other isn't health-related so I'll save that for tomorrow or the next day, whenever I am able to. :)

Anyway, I just wanted to thank everyone for their continued prayers. I know that it's because of them that I haven't defaulted into the worried, panic-attack stricken gal I once used to be. :)

I hope y'all are having a great start of the week thus far!

As always, thanks for reading and God bless! :D

ITP, Kidney Infection, No More Anemia... Oh My!

Quick update since I'm still feeling a bit under the weather... in list form.

1) Went to ER yesterday to get new antibiotic prescription. Doctor ordered blood test. Platelets plummeted from a healthy 152 to a sad (panda) 100 in a month and a half. I think they may officially diagnose me with ITP at this point; waiting to hear when I can see my doctor about what the next step will be (which may be a trip to see a hematologist). With my history of adverse reactions to different medications, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried about potential treatment plans. At least people like Allison (and specifically Allison) give me hope that things can get better. :)

2) I started displaying symptoms of the bladder infection I had possibly having spread to my kidneys so I was given a new antibiotic for it. Yay for antibiotics... boo for potentially being worse than originally diagnosed.

3) At least I'm no longer anemic. It was an 11 last night; I was at a 9 a month and a half ago; 10 is normal range. Yay for progress there!

4) I think they might also have to do a biopsy to check for Celiac because the blood test came back negative but I've been displaying symptoms for it, including a drop in platelets. They were steady for almost 2 years and then I reintroduced wheat into my system and my platelets and digestive system got exponentially worse.

5) If you're on #FeverWatch with me on Twitter, the latest is 100.04. Hasn't gone over that in several hours (more than 12 hours). The lowest was at 99.0 at the ER last night (though they had me in a freezing room for hours).

Okay, I'm going to try to take a nap or something. I feel exhausted. Thanks for that, low platelets. :-P