It's Chronic Because It's Constant

I adore the sitcom "Brooklyn Nine-Nine," particularly for Terry Crews, America's most muscular softie.  The writers aren't shy about incorporating his herculean physique into the script, and in one episode, the young detective Jake Peralta makes a comment about his musculature, saying "How do you do it?"  Terry's response is brutally simplistic:  "Exercise and diet.  It's not that hard."

Jake's reply is the ugly truth no one likes to admit:

"Eh, seems pretty hard to me.  I don't think I'm going to do that."

We are rapidly approaching the end of the first month of 2019, and this is the season when resolutions start to slide.  Once people learn how much effort is actually required to achieve the goals they set for themselves, motivation tends to wane.

I'm here to tell you: it's all worth it.   All the things you do to achieve chronic wellness are worth it.

Let's start by unpacking what I mean when I say "chronic wellness."  When I was first diagnosed with Hashimoto's disease, I found myself emblazoned with the label of being "chronically ill". 

Dictionary.com defines "chronic" thusly:

1.  constant; habitual; inveterate:

a chronic liar.

2.  continuing a long time or recurring frequently:

a chronic state of civil war.

3.  having long had a disease, habit, weakness, or the like:

a chronic invalid.

4.  (of a disease) having long duration (opposed to acute).

Those last two definitions are awfully on the nose and a little hurtful.

On the one hand, having a diagnosis gave me an answer and a direction to turn for treatment.  On the other, I did not fancy the idea of being sick all the time.  I felt like I had had enough of that experience over the past year, trading a stomach virus for mono for an ear infection for bronchitis and then back to a stomach virus to relive this Moebius loop of never-ending illness.

I was going to try every single thing I could learn to do to bring my mind and body to peak health.  This is when I started my personal crusade for chronic wellness.

If you've read some of my older posts, you know how I used an elimination diet to determine my food sensitivities, and have given up all caffeine.  I drink alcohol very rarely and in small amounts.  I eat virtually no grains and have tested positive for allergies to a bizarre list of the most commonly consumed 'basic' foods.

In addition to my diet changes, I keep a strict schedule of sleep, exercise, meditation, and down time.  Virtually eliminating an evening social life has been my greatest gift to myself. 

To give you an idea of what I do to remain chronically well, here's a sample itinerary of my daily routine:

4:10 AM -- My alarm goes off.  It is entirely unnecessary for me to rise THIS early, but I actually relish early mornings and I like to take my time getting ready for the day.

I feed the cats and grab either a protein shake or bone broth.  I drink that down, plus a glass of water with vitamins, and head to the bathtub for my morning read.

4:15 AM -- I take a bath.  Really.  It's a small tub, but the hot water helps my muscles relax from yesterday's lunges and pushups.  I soak for a pretty long time while I read the book that I keep stashed by the tub for this very purpose.

5:00 AM -- I finish my bath with a cold shower for 12 breaths, and continue preparing for the day as I drink another glass of water, this time with branch chain amino acids.  I put on my gym clothes and check my work email (I go to bed early, so the messages pile up while I'm asleep).  I place my breakfast (I made it last night) in my backpack and put up my hair.

5:25 AM -- If I'm riding my bike today, I need to be getting out the door.  If I'm driving, I have a few minutes to tidy and/or journal before I leave.

5:45 AM -- I arrive at the gym for my pre-workout warmup.

6:00 AM -- Crossfit class begins.  *This* is when I do my socializing.  I spend most mornings with my friends, talking, laughing, and doing hundreds of burpees.  I have to keep my body in top shape to avoid debilitating back pain, and I believe the exercise helps mitigate the hypothyroid response to my autoimmune condition.  Fitness is medicine.  It's not everyone's idea of a happy hour, but for me, it's way more fun than sitting in a loud bar at night attacking my own liver and watching other people exercise professionally on TV.  

7:00 AM -- I perform my final morning ablutions at the gym if I'm driving (if I'm on my bike, I wait until I get to work to do this). 

7:30 AM -- I arrive at work and eat my pre-made breakfast: two hard boiled eggs and 1/2 an avocado.  I have fruit and/or plantain chips for a snack.  Sometimes I snack right away.  That's okay.  I keep beef jerky, sports gummies, and Lara bars as a backup.  (I can't eat most of the school's offered snacks, and sometimes my work days go late into the evening.)  On rehearsal days, I bring an extra protein shake and a green smoothie for 'dinner'.

8:30 AM -- The school day starts (I currently work full-time as a middle school teacher: French, Chorus, & Drama).   I put a hot water/lemon/ginger tincture in my travel mug to keep me warm and hydrated throughout the morning. 

11:50 AM -- I have lunch with the middle-schoolers.  I frequently compose a sort of dairy-free chef salad, as the main hot dish being served is often off-limits with my dietary restrictions.

3:15 PM -- My "official" workday is over.  If I have meetings or rehearsal, the day may go as long as 7PM (longer for parent-teacher conferences and evening events).   I do not go to Crossfit the following day when I work past 6PM.  I have learned to respect my limits in terms of energy expenditure and rest requirements.

4:30 PM -- On a short day, I'll be home at this hour.  I do yoga, I meditate, I cook dinner, I read, and/or I do homework.  If I didn't journal in the morning, I do it now.  Most importantly, I pack my outfit and food for the following day. 

6:00 PM -- I eat dinner and I wind down.  As you can tell by my opening statement, I enjoy a cute TV show.

7:10 PM -- I go to bed.  Really.  I give myself 9 full hours to rest, knowing that I might take a while to fall asleep or awaken in the middle of the night (I keep myself very hydrated). 

4:10 AM -- Start all over and do it again.

It's a strict regimen, but once you've been down a rabbit hole of sickness, you'll do literally everything in your power to be well, and this system is what seems to work for me.

That's where I'm really going with all this (Oh, really, Dianna? You have a POINT? That's a first).  You (and I mean YOU, the reader) have so much in your power regarding your own wellness.   It can feel daunting, accepting that your personal health is your greatest responsibility (even and especially if you care for dependents--you're no good to anyone when you're not well enough to be there for them). 

Please don't misunderstand me--I'm NOT suggesting that your medical doctor isn't a great ally--it was a medical doctor who first suggested I try the elimination diet.  It was a medical doctor who discovered my autoimmune condition.  Doctors are there for you when you are sick and injured, but they are disease-treaters, not wellness-enablers.  My ability to function optimally each day is heavily influenced by my own actions, regardless of pharmaceutical intervention or medical treatment.   To me, that is empowering.  I have power over my health.  Everyone can do something to make themselves more well.

I get it.  It's hard.  It's a lot of work.  Chronic wellness takes constant effort.  That is the very definition of chronic.

The worst part is, it never gets easier.

It would be easy for me to take just one cookie from the faculty lounge.  One slice of cheese can't do that much harm, can it? 

Then I remember the searing stomach pain, the debilitating coughing, the paralyzing fevers and fatigue. 

I don't take the cookie.  I leave the cheese.  My stomach feels wonderful, and my lungs are working.  My temperature is normal, and I don't feel like a Mack truck hit me. 

If you're thinking of backing out on your New Year's Resolutions now, ask yourself this:  why did you set goals for yourself in the first place?  What is your "why"?

I bet you.     I bet you.     I bet you.

I bet you it's worth the trouble.  

YOU'RE worth the trouble.

It doesn't get easier; YOU get stronger.

Don't give up on your goals now.  I believe in you.

image credits:  https://www.reddit.com/r/fatlogic/comments/567btp/brooklyn_ninenine_hit_the_fatlogic_nail_on_the/