Familyn

How do I know that I have a problem.
I always knew there was a problem, I just thought it was everyone else but not me. If I had a problem, it was your problem. Especially if your problems were multiple and distracted me from mine.
All I knew was the trouble how to create them and run away from them before running to a set of another variety or brand. Another one in my broken budget. Issues that I could capitalize on or profit from.
That's when I realized there was a real problem when I ran out of money to give away and didn't know where to find more. It was only in those briefest moments that I ever stopped and asked myself if it was booze, drugs or substances.

How sobriety changed my dating life.
Because alcohol damages the frontal lobe of the brain—the part responsible for judgment—bad decisions can often be good ones. I'm not saying that kissing anyone is always bad, but for me at the time it was a bad choice.
Alcohol itself is heavily associated with instant gratification. It follows from this that the more and more often we drink, the more we live in the present - to hell with the consequences.
I learned that the consequences are very real. I no longer wanted to date people who were completely unsuitable for me, just because I found situations interesting, exciting, or exciting.

I tried the 12 step program, but what about other alternative/non-traditional treatment options?
As a member of a 12-step program, as well as one who spent time at a treatment facility for alcohol and drug use, I've too often heard it suggested or even explicitly stated that these are the only ways to truly treat substance abuse.
While I am by no means knocking treatment facilities or 12-step programs (I'm actually an advocate of and a believer in both), I find it irresponsible for people to claim there’s only one narrow path to sobriety.
It is my opinion that these people are speaking from their personal experience and what they'd be better served to say is rehabilitation centers and 12-step programs are what worked for them. However, this doesn't mean they’re the ONLY ways to successfully treat addiction and substance abuse.

The bottom: my lowest points in the addiction that led me to recovery.
This is the point where every alcoholic or drug addict hits sooner or later. One that causes them so much suffering and stress that they are finally convinced that they can no longer continue to drink and use.
One that allows them to accept that they have only two choices: stop using or let their lives continue to fall apart quickly as they hurt the people who love them the most, or worse, they die.
I wish I could tell you that it only took me one hit to rock bottom to learn my lesson and convince myself to give up drugs and alcohol once and for all.
However, this did not happen. It took several irreconcilable losses of various kinds and several years of reflection on them before I was finally able to admit to myself and to another that I was powerless over alcohol and drugs.

My experience of early recovery and sobriety.
My first time getting clean and sober involved bouncing off a rock bottom almost entirely of my own making. Some of the circumstances were out of my control and doing, mixed in with being blamed for the one thing I ironically didn't do to a person I loved with all my heart back then and was trying to mend things with relationship-wise.
I woke up to a text from her saying she never wanted to see or talk to me again, as she blamed me for spreading a recent rumor about her I hadn't. I knew it didn't matter. After all the lies and denial I brought home to her during 4 years of my addiction, she’d never believe me.

A day in my life with ADHD.
For years, I’ve felt a secret sense of embarrassment in many areas of my life, and this embarrassment surfaces whenever I reveal to someone that I have never been able to consistently stick to a routine.
I’m not aiming to evade the topic of this post. Rather, I want to express how varied my days are and how my recent ADHD diagnosis at the age of 41 is helping me understand my patterns -- or lack thereof -- in a more self-compassionate light.
Some of you living with ADHD may find the following scenarios familiar.
One day I may wake up from my restorative sleep, ready to take on the world. I look at my to-do list, drink coffee, and even find the motivation to go for a walk. Inevitably, I think to myself, “I’m going to kick my ass today! I have to do this every day!”

How an Instagram comment led to my ADHD diagnosis.
I am one of the many women who was not diagnosed with ADHD until adulthood: I was diagnosed just 2 weeks after I turned 41 earlier this year. As you may know, a later diagnosis does not mean that I recently "caught" ADHD or that I didn't have it until my 40s. Rather, I've lived with it all my life, but didn't know about it until recently.

Many people my age only realize their ADHD diagnosis after their child is examined—they recognize their own symptoms when they listen to questions asked by their child's primary care physician. I'm child free, so that's not how I discovered my ADHD.
Reader, it was much more mundane. It was an Instagram comment that got me into questions.
In early March 2021, I posted a photo of my home office with a long caption describing how much I look like a toddler taking every toy out of the box and then playing with something else entirely.I was talking about starting 10 projects and finishing one. About how I can ruin a freshly cleaned room by piling up a bunch of work organized in a way that only I can understand. Something like that.
My friend E. commented, “Have you been tested for ADHD? "Because it sounds like a textbook case!"

How therapy helps me cope with ADHD.
Many of the books I've read recently highlight how people living with ADHD can dramatically improve their relationships, workflow, and even self-esteem by working with therapists (and coaches) who specialize in ADHD.
I am a big believer in talking therapy in general: I can say without a doubt that the sessions with my therapist have helped me understand and effectively process almost every major ups and downs of my personal and professional life over the past decade. Although my ADHD diagnosis wasn't made until spring 2021, my therapist has been helping me with issues related to my poor executive functioning since day one.

How does my ADHD affect my business?
The Avid Bookshop planning process felt different. The challenges I faced were invigorating, and I loved how much I was learning. When I recount my business’s origin story, I highlight the fact that I’ve always had a variety of interests and that Avid was the perfect way for me to explore all of them without having to commit to just one.
Now that I have an ADHD diagnosis, it seems obvious in hindsight that my brain chemistry has played a role in my career decisions since day one. My therapist told me early on that a significant percentage of entrepreneurs have ADHD. I’ve since read this in many books and articles about the disorder.

What I wish people knew about ADHD.
As I am still studying this disorder and seeing in real time how it manifests itself in me depending on the time of day (and the time of year, and the time of the month, and the time of my last full night's sleep), there is a LOT that I want to share.
Those of you living with ADHD can probably understand why I came up with a list of things; there was not a single topic that I could even consider, let alone focus on.
I would like people to know that my tendency to interrupt is due to the fact that I am very interested in our conversation, and not because I don't care what they say.
I would like people to know that even successful people with ADHD suffer from their symptoms every single day.
I want people to know that how I end up spending my time doesn't necessarily reflect my priorities. For example, I may be late for a long-awaited meeting with friends this afternoon because I completed about 8,000 low-priority tasks before my ever-increasing stress from deadlines forced me to open this document.

The doctors chalked it up to "back pain," but I knew something was wrong.
It was a strange burning pain right between the shoulder blades. I felt it for about a year, but the doctors in Rock Springs brushed it off. “Everyone has back pain,” they said, “do these exercises and you will feel better.” But when the pain in the sternum and skull appeared, I realized that I needed to look for help somewhere. When I visited an orthopedic surgeon, he did an MRI of my spine and sternum, and then immediately ordered a biopsy. They drilled a hole in my sternum and said, "Go home, we'll call."
A few days later, the surgeon called and said to wait for the oncologist's call. She called. Cancer! Be prepared to stay." Everything I worried about and imagined turned out to be true. I tried to be strong for my 5 year old and 3 year old children, but I couldn't stop crying. I lived in a nightmare.
The details of that day—the journey, the children, the blessings of friends, and the first contact with the doctors—are ingrained in my memory and become part of our family lore. . Multiple myeloma is such a crazy disease, it affects everyone in different ways that you never know what you're going to get. However, the only thing I can control is my worldview. I choose to live each day to the fullest, read this book, take this journey, hold this child, live my life.

What surprised me the most about my journey with cancer.
Before I was diagnosed with cancer, I lived under the impression that all types of cancer were treated the same way, that treatment lasted a limited time and then ended. You either responded to treatment or you didn't. If you answered, you were in remission. If you hadn't answered, you would have died. I was surprised to learn that treatment outcomes are far from an either/or equation.

Trust the treatment and live with the side effects.
The path to myeloma treatment is different for everyone, including myself, but I find sharing experiences helpful and comforting. This stimulates conversations with doctors about questions and concerns.
Myeloma patients usually try several regimens along the way, and I am no different. Over the course of 23 years, in addition to numerous radiation procedures, I underwent nine different types of chemotherapy.
After 5 months without progress, the oncologist recommended autologous stem cell transplantation. We used a different type of chemotherapy for this process. It killed my bone marrow. Because of what it does and how you get it, there are extreme side effects. Nausea, diarrhea, and fatigue to the point where I couldn't get out of bed were constant during the 30 days I was in the hospital. For a year after the transplant, I vomited almost every day. I was grateful for my husband's flexible work. He could return home in the blink of an eye to take care of the children when things went wrong.

Complementary Therapies Help Me Manage Pain.
So many people want to weigh their minds when you're diagnosed with cancer. They all want to help by providing you with a miracle cure or treatment.
When I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, I was bombarded with people wanting to tell me about miracle cures they had read about in an article or heard from a friend.
In fact, sometimes it became a bone of contention for people who thought their way was the best and got upset if I didn't try it. Their intentions were good. They wanted to help. But they didn't realize how overwhelming it was. I had to find what works best for me.

Communication has been the key to my multiple myeloma treatment and my career.
When I talk to other people with multiple myeloma, almost everyone thinks about what to do with work. I think this is probably very common for all cancer patients, but since myeloma can be treated for many years, patients are willing - and must - work, even if it can be extremely difficult.
Cancer was very expensive - even with my husband's excellent insurance - so we relied on credit for several years as we traveled to Denver from Rock Springs, Wyoming for my bone marrow transplant. It was hard to stick to the budget as we were trying to survive every month, so we made some bad financial decisions during that time.

What I wish people knew about my myeloma diagnosis.
One thing that is common with myeloma patients is persistent pain, a pain that comes from inside the bones, so unless it has begun to physically alter the bone somehow, no one would necessarily know we are in pain. With myeloma we often have to convince our doctors that we are in pain and something new is happening.

It can be hard to differentiate between pain coming from inside my bones and muscle pain, both of which can indicate a problem. Because of this I second guess myself. A lot. I once had a tumor pressing down on my eyeball, as well into my brain, that I didn’t say anything for about a year even though my droopy eye just kept getting droopier because I just didn’t know if it was anything to be worried about.

After 24 years with multiple myeloma, I have a lot to be thankful for.
I want to be grateful. I am thankful. Gratitude restores the soul. It helps us get rid of our own selfishness. This gives us a place to count all the blessings we've been ignoring. Holidays can take us out of this box of selfishness and remind us of what is truly given to us and how grateful we should be.
Holidays can be tough, like a multiple myeloma patient. Often we don't look sick but feel terrible, or we feel good and look sick. So it's better to just ask how we feel and not make any assumptions about our condition.

What I wish people knew about familial hypercholesterolemia.
"I have very high cholesterol without medication."

This discovery, which I have been making for years, is usually followed by answers like this:

“Oh, this must be difficult. You have to be *so* careful about what you eat!"
“My (brother/friend/colleague) also has high cholesterol, but…”
“If you are eating (vegan/keto/paleo/modern diet) and exercising daily, you may be off these medications. I did! And try taking (insert specific vitamin or supplement here).”

Early diagnosis and identification of my condition prevented the consequences.
Some of the best advice I’ve ever heard boils down to this simple idea: Naming something doesn’t give it power, it gives us power.
When a small-town family doctor told me, at the age of 20, that I had high cholesterol that was clearly hereditary -- based on my father’s and brother’s early deaths from heart attacks -- I was initially shocked. I had no symptoms and thus no reason to suspect my LDL, or bad cholesterol, was as alarmingly high as it turned out to be.

What it's like to pass on a genetic disease to your children.
There are as many ways to educate as there are people. But, with rare exceptions, we all share a strong desire to keep our children safe.
Ensuring they avoid dangerous situations, get regular checkups, study hard in school, and develop appropriate social skills are things we can control, at least in part.
What do we feel when the danger comes from within? When, despite our best efforts, one or more of our children is diagnosed with a genetic disorder—in my case, familial hypercholesterolemia (FH)—that is passed down from us?

What it was like to find a treatment that works.
No wonder when he explained that my total cholesterol level is well over 400, while below 200 is considered normal. My LDL-C (“bad cholesterol”) was high and my HDL (“good cholesterol”) was also high—the only good news.
“Given your family history, we will start treating you immediately,” he advised.
But the drugs available in 1976 were far from what we have today.
I went to the pharmacy and then returned home with a jar of cholestyramine, an orange powder that, when mixed with water, turned into a disgusting mixture of orange goo. As part of my line of duty, I drank it every day—well, most of the days—and was afraid to do so for the rest of my life.

The emotional impact of living with familial hypercholesterolemia.
Beginning in 1976, I took whatever medications were available at the time, adopted a low-fat, low-cholesterol diet, and tried to squeeze in exercise along with child care and work. Yet still, my numbers were higher than the guidelines for acceptable LDL levels. I resigned myself to doing the best I could and prayed it would be enough.

Every night as I lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, I worried over the things I hadn’t done. I feared that one day, I’d be lying in a hospital bed after a heart attack or bypass surgery, regretting my lack of sustained, intense cardio exercise. It might be too late to fix things then.?!

Connection with others.
But we don't always have a choice. What then? If we're lucky, we'll find our tribe.
For more than 4 decades after being diagnosed with familial hyperlipidemia type 2a at age 21, my journey has been a lonely one. The early death of my father and brother from heart attacks led my doctor to take my cholesterol levels seriously, while many others advocated expectant management. My doctors prescribed statins, told me about a heart-healthy diet, and ordered regular tests. I faithfully obeyed.

There was a question about exercise.
Never an athlete, working and raising three children, nonetheless I made my best attempts at staying active. I set up dates to walk with friends, occasionally dipped my toe into running, rose early to ride a stationary bike, and did aerobics at what I not-so-fondly referred to as “torture class.” Again, nothing had much impact on my lipid results. The harder I tried, the more frustrated I became.
I knew my cholesterol was hereditary, that it “ran in my family.” What I didn’t yet understand was that my diagnosis, familial hypercholesterolemia (FH), was a genetic disorder, which meant that my liver didn’t function in the same way others’ did to rid the body of LDL, or “bad cholesterol.”

When Lifestyle Changes Don't Help Your High Cholesterol.
I have known since I was 21 that my cholesterol levels are very high. With untreated total cholesterol as high as 450 and a family history to attract the attention of even the most conservative physician, I would be foolish not to take my health seriously. At the time, in the 1970s, low-fat diets were in vogue. Fake butter in the form of a sprinkle. Fat-free versions of almost everything, often tastier due to the addition of sugar in various forms. Carbohydrates instead of fats. I was with all my heart on board.
Decades passed, one new "best" diet after another turned into a daily meal. Time and time again, I stuck to a plan that promised promising results, but was disappointed when my cholesterol levels didn't change.

Importance of advocacy.
In relation to health care, self-advocacy has been the key that’s unlocked the information I need to understand my genetic cardiovascular disorder -- familial hypercholesterolemia -- and to secure appropriate treatment. Beginning with my diagnosis in 1976, I learned that waiting for doctors to take the lead sometimes worked; more often, it didn’t. Once my children were born, I understood that if I wanted to ensure they were tested at age 2 and received optimal care if they’d inherited FH, the ball was most often in my court.

When I married and had a family.
I protected my kids by insisting their cholesterol be tested at age 2 – as guidelines now dictate for those with FH in their families – and by taking the two who had inherited FH to a lipid specialist regularly.
My kids looked like the picture of health, all three of them – "Just like the kids on the Wheaties box,” said one pediatrician. This made it more necessary than ever that I become an effective advocate. People had difficulty understanding my kids’ bodies functioned differently when they looked just like their own healthy children. I understood I couldn’t be a passive health care consumer if I wanted to ensure they had the best chance at a long and healthy life.

How FH changed me.
Each of us wishes for good health – for ourselves, for our children, for our extended family.
So when a doctor diagnoses a disorder - especially one of genetic origin, one someone has passed down to us and that we can also pass on - it changes us. I like to think of the skills I’ve developed as someone with a genetic disorder in terms of the three A’s: advocate, appreciate, assist.

RA and work: how I deal with outbreaks.
Working full-time with rheumatoid arthritis looks different for each person with the condition.
It depends mainly on the career and frequency of outbreak severity. But I think your worldview also plays a big role.
I am happy to be a co-owner of a family business. Our team is very close-knit, and even employees who do not bear our last name still care about each other like family.

If you're struggling with weight management while on your RA journey, you're not alone!
Please don't beat yourself up. (RA already does this for you.) Try to eat one at a time and make the best decisions for that meal. I also find it helpful to have healthy options readily available to me. It's much easier to eat a healthy snack or meal when the choice is right in front of you. And it may be obvious, but don't even let tempting food enter the house. It's a challenge for me, but I can't eat cookies or chips if I don't have them in my pantry! Hold on and know that you are doing your best. Improved body wellness will inspire you to continue making healthy choices.