Fake it till you make it.

Just now on my way home from visiting my cousin Laney (who, by the way, grows the sweetest strawberries I've ever tasted), I decided to remove my hanging handicap pass from my rearview mirror. If I'm to get better, I need to act like I'm healthy and think like I'm healthy. So now I'll most likely be setting up a silent auction for my two handicap passes. They've still got two good months before they expire and they look quite attractive when the sunlight hits them through your windshield. They slide easily into a purse or briefcase, and they get you rock star parking no matter where you go.

Not for Long

In two weeks my Salt Lake self is being put to rest in the city cemetery next to that hauntingly creepy ghost story woman. Long past dusk we crept over the chain link in search of her. Never found her (even though friendly Mr. Officer found us), but I've still got time. Two weeks. Two weeks to eat my oat groats with the morning cool and the box elder bug babies and my little parsley plant on the balcony. Two weeks to smile at the sycamore trees on Michigan Avenue and dream of the day I'll have my own mini window in my front door and listen to Josh Ritter tell me how hard I am to love.

Fourteen days to hike up Emigration Canyon and be able to call it my own and visit my neighbors the three rowdy tiger cubs and run across the street to catch the shuttle to campus. I've got fourteen whole days to visit my little ducky friends at Garden Park and listen to the trees in the gully and talk to the rushing water. Sometimes it's all I need. Fourteen days to not feel so far away. I still need to partake of the Patagonia Outlet, pay Park City a visit, eat at Omar's, tour the Masonic temple, meander through my favorite corners of the Avenues, discover more secret gardens, reek of camp fire, and just be one hundred percent in the moment. Walks and talks and friends I love. I'm pretty sure this is exactly what it feels like to know you're dying.

But the downtown farmers markets will bring me back at least once a week and so will the refugees and so will you. Please promise to put flowers on my grave, and I just may come back for a day. Or three. Layton feels too far away.

June

Is the smell of vine-ripened tomatoes that triggers memory after memory of watering my dad's garden to the setting California sun. And picking zucchini the size of baseball bats. It's morning sunlight and carefree wildflowers and fuzzy baby quail waddling along the back fence. It's cut grass and baseball and endless weekends. Summer storms and evening hikes and a renewed hope for romance, of course. And farmers markets and new yummy recipes and late nights with the windows open and the fire pit ablaze. And lots and lots of  beautiful words on paper that come together only at dusk. (Maybe I should've waited till dusk to write this post.)

Beauty in Life

A friend shared this video with me this morning. I needed it. Maybe you do 
too. There's hope all around us. Love you all, my friends!!

Miracle Waiting in the Wings

Barbara didn't exactly tell me what I wanted to hear, prayed to hear. As of late my prayers have definitely been taken up five notches and are more like pleadings now. It's humbling. I can almost touch God.

I've been praying that the joint pain in my right pointer finger, which has all the RA symptoms, would really just be the infection and parasites and Strep G that are in all my other joints. But when I asked Barbara to look at that finger specifically, the computer clearly said RA. My faith is often like our eyes when we're starving and pile our plates high with more food than we could ever swallow. My faith likes to accept every challenge fearlessly, but it doesn't know what patience means. So when Barbara told me it was RA, it was almost like a slap in the face. I've been so, so healthy the past couple months. Shouldn't I be better by now?

But now that I've had time to reflect, I feel like Heavenly Father is telling me, "I know you think you know what you're capable of, but Katie, I'm about to show you that you are capable of so much more." And even more powerfully He's saying, "Watch what I can do. If you'll let me, I'll work an even mightier miracle for you. You haven't seen nothin' yet." I trust Him, I do. He's healed me so many times before that I can never doubt His power, but this is to a new height. I'm wondering if He wants me to prove Him to the point that he lets me see the physical affects of RA so that He can heal me, change me visibly. It makes me heart ache because of the love He has for me and ache because I feel like a little child afraid to jump off the diving board. I guess we'll just have to see what He has in store.

PS: The most beautiful sun is making my backyard radiate and shimmer. It wants me to come out and swing for a minute and pick the pretty purple wildflowers growing through the grass. It doesn't even care that I'm still in my pajamas.

Today's Point Spectrum

+50 pts. Getting to see a boy named Adam one more time.
+19 pts. Completing final exam #1 without breaking a sweat.

-50 pts. Seeing a boy named Adam one last time.

+75 pts. Someone mowing our jungle while I was at said final!! (You could lie down in some areas and no one could see you.)
+5 pts. The fridge being dark and all the digital clocks being blank when I got home.
+15 pts. Remembering the whole neighborhood is dark too, although the power company did threaten to permanently turn off our power today if we didn't call them (but Leigh did—thank you, Leigh).
+2 pts. Almost crying because all the wonderful foods I wanted to make required electricity.
+6 pts. Eating a spinach and lettuce sandwich. (Hey, I'm still an amateur when it comes to having a variety of raw sandwich-worthy condiments on hand.)
+44 pts. Declaring avocado my replacement mayo. It spreads much better and is all natural.
+0 pts. Hitting my head against the desk repeatedly (i.e., Studying for my statistics final).
+166 pts. so far. I'd say it's a pretty good day.

May 6th

May 6th is 2 days after my last final and 1 week before I fly to Seattle with my mama to see 4 people we love dearly, 2 of them being munchkins. And May 6th is also my . . .

2nd appointment with Barbara!!!! 

(I've been on a waiting list and just got offered this appointment.)

More Answers

In all honesty, I haven't posted any health updates lately because I've plateaued and am slightly frustrated about my arthritis pain not improving, so there's nothing much to share that's progress. And just yesterday fear started to creep in. I don't like that word and for the most part I feel completely at peace about my health, but yesterday I saw my Uncle Mike, whose wife has RA. I'd taken my car in to see Mike, the Saab master, because the "check engine" light came on Wednesday afternoon. Nothing's wrong with the car—the light came on because my gas cap wasn't screwed on tight enough. It hurts my hands to click the cap tight, so after I fill up with gas I just twist it on without clicking it in place. Something about the lack of pressure in the gas tank makes the engine light go on. So I practiced turning the cap and can click it three times if I do it with both hands, mainly using my thumbs, and go at it at a different angle than normal. Mike figured that me not being able to screw the gas cap on tight was the problem because his wife, Lavon, can't do that either because of her RA. It hurts my fingers to even hit the blinker or the windshield wipers now, but what can you do? Lavon's in the same boat but worse. So are a lot of other people.

So the fear part crept in after Mike mentioned joint damage and how when you use your joints when they're inflamed, you can cause permanent damage. I didn't know that. The rheumatologist said to keep using my joints even when they hurt. She also told me to come back in 4 months or until the pain got unbearable because she said my hand pain appeared to be osteoarthritis not rheumatoid. Well, what is unbearable pain? I think I can bear any pain. I feel like my rheumatologist has just left me hanging without figuring out the root of the problem and looking deeper. At first I felt fine about that because I had Barbara and knew about the infection in my body even if the rheumatologist didn't want to go down that road, but now that my symptoms aren't improving as quickly as I hoped, I feel very vulnerable and don't want to cause permanent joint damage. I want to make sure I'm doing the right thing. If I were seeing faster results with the medicine I've been taking from Barbara, I would feel safer.

But just now I decided to research more about Strep G to better understand what it's doing in my body and what to expect with it, and I came across this information, which helps me see the whole picture a lot better! Amazing! Read below.

"Group G strep (GGS) is normally present on the skin, in the mouth and throat,and in the intestines and genital tract, and is most likely to lead to infection in alcoholics and in people who have cancer, diabetes mellitus, rheumatoid arthritis, and other conditions that suppress immune-system activity. GGScan cause a variety of infections, including:

     -Bacteria in the bloodstream

     -Bursitis (Inflammation of the connective tissue structure surrounding a joint)

     -Endocarditis (a condition that affects the lining of the heart chambers and the heart valves)

     -Meningitis

     -Osteomyelitis (inflammation of bone and bone marrow)

     -Peritonitis (inflammationof the lining of the abdomen)."

Read more: http://www.faqs.org/health/topics/5/Streptococcal-infections.html#ixzz0lO6Nar00

If I didn't have RA and if my immune system weren't low from other health issues (epstein barr virus and hyperthyroidism and stress), I bet the Strep G wouldn't have attacked my joints. Interesting! So my primary concern is to kill the infection and then see if the joint pain goes away completely. If not, then I know the infection really did trigger the RA and then I'll deal with the RA. My most persistent and worse pain is in my right pointer finger knuckle, which is an RA joint (OA joints are the two top joints of the fingers and the thumb joints), so I am concerned about joint damage there. Here's what I'm doing now to eliminate the bacteria:

-taking herbal drops to kill the parasites and Strep G infection (same drops I've taken over the years to kill all my travel bugs)

-taking Lactozyme pills to put good bacteria in my body

-eating 4 Tbs. coconut oil daily, which has major antiviral properties (go to http://www.advance-health.com/coconut.html to read more)

-getting massages with essential oils that fight infection and help with pain (Okay, so I've had only one massage so far, but was the best thing I've done so far for my pain. I felt amazing the entire day and swore I would start doing them every other week. But they cost money, so I have yet to go back for my second one.)

-trying to stress less

-trying to sleep more

-eating 4 cups of green smoothie a day (see Please Pass the Green for more info)

-lessening the foods I eat that contain preservatives

-eating mostly fresh, raw veggies, especially asparagus, edamame, chickpeas, broccoli, Brussels Sprouts, spinach, and green beans to get the most protein

From the Mouth of Babes

We already know I'm a picture stealer when it comes to my niece and nephew, so don't even worry about it. Just a couple minutes ago I was on Brad and Chels's blog, and Chels had shared a great story about little Emma that was too good to keep to myself. So now I'm owning up to being a story stealer.

Emma is 2 1/2 years old. Just a couple weeks ago Brad, Chels, Emma, and Jude went to visit Chels's parents in Pennsylvania. While they were there they went to see the Palmyra Temple and stopped in the visitor's center. There were two sister missionaries there who asked Emma if she knew who the statue was of. Emma said, "Jesus." Then they asked who Jesus was. Emma said, "My husband." Who is this child?? I just love her. Good thing she didn't say William Tyndale was her husband or else we would've been in a fight. I've already claimed him as my husband after the resurrection.

Behind the fence

Swinging. Careening. Cloud-to-soul revealing. That's when I noticed the rusty latch at the tip-top of the wooden fence. The wooden fence I thought we shared with our backyard neighbors. So I crept close and jiggled the latch and got impatient when it wouldn't budge. So I hammered the fence with the side of my slightly able fist, and the door went creak and I took a furtive peak. I bet you want to know what I saw, don't ya? A world of pebbles and hollow stripes, silently peering into a land of primly pruned shrubs and delicate vines and ornate stools of iron. The stripes kept us apart, and I liked it that way, behind the fence. In between the fences. A world of pebbles and empty snail homes, silently leading to unknown corners and buried wonders of rubble.