COVID: Gift from God?
To say 2020 thus far has been surreal and emotionally exhausting would be an understatement. I started the year brimming with confidence and excitement to begin my journey toward a new career. A freelance writing course had taught me the ins and outs of making a living from contract writing. I knew I would need to buckle down for at least a few months as I tried to find and work additional jobs while still employed full time at the newspaper.
This likely would mean upping the stress in my life, limiting time spent having fun or just relaxing and likely trimming some precious sleep. But I’m healthy, I told myself. I can handle it. It’ll only be for a few months — hopefully. Well, apparently I couldn’t handle it. I accepted my first freelance writing job in mid-January, which I contracted for 10 hours a week.
The work involved fairly in-depth, research-heavy (and therefore mentally exhausting) articles for a law firm’s website, all while continuing at the newspaper, searching for additional contract work and trying (and mostly failing) to keep up with this blog. I did alright for the first few weeks, but the sleep deprivation and having almost no downtime caught up with me. My overall feeling of wellness began to spiral downward at a frightening pace.
My new regime had quickly reminded me that as someone with the ApoE4 gene — the predisposition for Alzheimer’s disease — I cannot put my health on the back burner for long before my brain noticeably suffers. It also reminded me just how important sleep and relaxation time are for the mind, body and soul. My poor, struggling brain became bogged down and much to my chagrin, forgetfulness, brain fog, depression and anxiety — all things I thought I’d kicked years ago — had crept back in.
But I loved the additional income and was bound and determined to succeed, so I kept pushing myself. I had multiple other job possibilities hanging out there, and I felt certain I would be handing in my notice at the newspaper before the end of March. I knew I could make it if I just pushed myself a bit harder. Then suddenly coronavirus hit home.
Life upended
“If you want to give God a good laugh, tell Him your plans for your life.” I don’t know who coined this, but it’s always been one of my favorite quotes. It perfectly sums up my life. Every time I map out plans for myself, somehow a wrench gets thrown into the equation — especially when it comes to my career. This year has proven to be no different.
Just when I thought I was on the brink of my career really taking off, everything ground to a screeching halt. My freelance contract was paused, my other job prospects fell silent and although media is an essential business (thank God), my hours at the newspaper were cut. Everything changed literally overnight, and I went from no free time to more time than I’d had in years. My fierce career motivation relaxed and slid to the back burner, allowing my health to take center stage. I could no longer ignore my symptoms and pretend that all was well.
Anxiety and depression hit me hard; I had gained 15 pounds since January (and not because I wasn’t eating well or slacking on my exercise). I was having serious digestive issues and bloating and most concerning of all, my menstrual cycle decided to fully stop. My last period was in January, and I was feeling on and off ovary and abdominal pain, sometimes dull and widespread and sometimes stabbing pain in one or both ovaries. The combination of the menstrual and digestive issues made me constantly feel heavy and full in my abdomen. I knew something was wrong.
My annual OB-GYN appointment was scheduled for the end of March. The office tried to reschedule due to COVID, but I pleaded with them to let me still come in, explaining my symptoms. My doctor refused to do a pelvic exam and seemed like she could barely stop herself from rolling her eyes as she explained to me that menopause at 42 is not impossible. I tried to tell her that I really didn’t believe it was menopause, and that I was concerned about my ovaries as ovarian cysts and cancer run in my family, but she didn’t seem to care. In the end she agreed to test my thyroid levels (at my insistence) because of my past issues with that gland, and I had wondered if that was the root cause.
My thyroid results showed improvement in my free T4 and thyroid stimulating hormone numbers, but my free T3 was low. Yet for some reason, my doctor said my levels were normal, have a nice day. In the meantime, the soonest they could schedule me for a pelvic exam/pap test was August. This was unacceptable to me. The time had come to find a new doctor.
Gift from God
Let me first say that I fully understand this virus has been a nightmare for many and my sympathy goes to everyone who’s suffered it, their families and all health care workers battling it day in and day out. But for me, the COVID-19 pandemic was a gift from God. It forced me to slow down, breathe and once again focus on what is truly important in life — my health first and foremost. I suddenly found myself sleeping much better, spending a lot more time basking in the sun and walking in the woods. I even brought my mat with me to the woods one day and did yoga. The day was gorgeous, the woods was just beginning to bloom and not another human soul was around. It was amazing.
To help my depression, anxiety and shortness of breath, I downloaded the Headspace app to teach me how to meditate. This app is really great. It’s free initially, but to unlock all it has to offer, you have to subscribe. I plan to eventually, but for now, the free options are good enough. Also, I discovered the wonders of GABA (gamma aminobutyric acid), a neurotransmitter supplement that naturally calms anxiety and other mood issues. I plan to delve deeply into this supplement in a future post, so stay tuned!
My mood improved tremendously as April slid by, but my physical health issues only worsened. I needed professional medical help. My sister, Jo, for the last few years had been urging me to switch to her doctor — a functional medicine OB-GYN. Now was the time to leap. I called her office and much to my surprise, she was able to see me within just a few weeks — in early May.
The right doctor makes all the difference
I explained all my symptoms, both digestive and menstrual, to my new doctor. Not once did she make me feel like I was wasting her time. Not once did she suggest with exasperation that I was probably just going through early menopause. She said something was definitely wrong and that we’d get to the bottom of it. She ordered a slew of tests, including an ultrasound of my ovaries, which she set up for me that same day.
Two weeks later I met with her again to discuss the results. My blood tests confirmed I am not menopausal. Instead, the ultrasound found two 2-centimeter complex cysts on my ovaries. Complex cysts, she said, are the type that could be cancerous, but this is uncommon in premenopausal women. I will need a followup ultrasound in a few weeks to see if the cysts are growing, along with a blood test for any cancer markers. If the tests show growth or markers in the blood, we have a problem. If not, no worries, and we just have to keep an eye on them.
My results also showed a calcium deficiency in my blood, despite my taking a supplement. This could indicate a problem with my parathyroid, she said, so I also must test that hormone.
And remember back in January when I tried Dr. Alexandro Junger’s Clean elimination diet? It helped but didn’t fully heal my gut, and in the ensuing months all of the old symptoms (and excess weight) returned and then some. My doctor explained that healing the gut takes far longer than a month.
My digestive symptoms, she said, aligned with small intestine bacterial overgrowth (SIBO), another subject I plan to go into greater detail in the future. She prescribed an elimination low-FODMAP diet (also much more on this in the future) to heal my gut. FODMAP stands for fermentable oligosaccharide, disaccharide, monosaccharide and polyols. These are specific types of sugars found in carbohydrates, from beans to fruits and vegetables to sugar alcohols, in which a person has one or more intolerance. As if my diet wasn’t restrictive enough, let’s now eliminate dairy and a barrel-full of fruits and vegetables — items I had previously eaten with gusto thinking I was being so healthy. Sigh.
Time to heal
I’ve since started meeting with a health coach — recommended by my doctor — and she’s helping me wade through the somewhat overwhelming low-FODMAP diet. Healing my gut will be a slow process — my doctor said months — but so far so good. I’m adjusting nicely without too much sacrifice.
As for my career, things are slowly starting to pick back up again, with the newspaper back at full time and a few other possible prospects hanging out there for me. But I’m in no hurry. I need to heal first.
In the meantime, I wait patiently for that negative cancer result while giving myself all the love and nurturing I can muster. I wait, giving my body the tools it needs to naturally heal itself. I thank God for the blessings in my life and for my self-awareness to know when it was time to seek out a new doctor and a second opinion. Of course I will keep all of you posted on my results. But until then, remember that no job is worth sacrificing your health. Remember how important it is to give yourself time to breathe deeply and take in nature through all of your senses. And most importantly, to take time to look inward to not only know your body and what it’s trying to tell you, but also to appreciate what an amazing, divine miracle your body is.