Mayo Clinic Pain Rehabilitation Center: The journey begins

April 2018

After being diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), I asked my geneticist if she could make a referral for Mayo Clinic's Pain Rehabilitation Center (PRC). My mom had discovered PRC about two years ago when there was an article about a mom and her two daughters in the church newsletter. Being the wonderful mother she is, my mom set out on a path to get me into this program. I'll be honest: I heard about this program and I thought it was a load of crap. There was all this information about breathing differently, and I did not understand how breathing differently was supposed to get rid of my level 8 chronic pain. However, what I had been doing for the last 7 years clearly wasn't working, and with there being no real treatment for EDS I decided to give this program a chance. After all, it's at Mayo Clinic and they seem to know what they're doing there (at the number 1 ranked hospital in the nation). So my geneticist made a referral and told me the process of getting approved had started. A month later and I had still not heard from Mayo. One afternoon while I was "studying" in the computer lab I called Mayo to see where the status of my referral was. Let me just add that I called them in a computer lab filled with students who were actually studying without even thinking about them overhearing me (oops). After many transfers, a friendly guy at Mayo told me that psychiatry had my case.
Hold up...they think this is all in my head. That was my first thought. After a doctor at another great hospital was convinced my GI troubles were in my head, I began to panic. I tried to remain calm while I asked the guy why psych had my case. He informed me that the pain rehab center was run through psychiatry. Again, that made no sense. Shouldn't a pain rehab center be ran by pain doctors?! I was already doubtful of this program, but this was the icing on the cake. I found out that a nurse was going to call me for a phone appointment in three weeks to evaluate me for the program. I still didn't know what to expect, but I just trusted the process.

Time passed quickly until the day of the phone call. I was working on a group project with my classmates and told them that I would need to leave early so I could be ready for a phone appointment. I sat on a bench in the basement of a building on campus waiting for my phone to ring. As I waited, I found myself amused at the fact that the other students on campus were starting to get ready for Dead Week and Finals week and here I sat, waiting to hear from the Mayo Clinic. My phone rang, I answered it, and began a conversation that lasted over an hour with a nice nurse. We went through my entire medical history, all my medicines, everything I've been diagnosed with, what all I've tried for my joint pain, history and family history of substance abuse or suicide, concerns I have about school, and many other topics. After giving me more information about the program, the nurse said that she thought the 17 day program would be better for me (as opposed to the 2 day crash course). Then I had to talk with scheduling. They could get me in as early as May 17th which meant I would finish the program on June 11th. I confirmed it and then called my mom crying. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and worried that I would miss my niece's first birthday party. With my time at Mayo booked and their insurance department working on making sure insurance would cover the program (we're looking at a very large number behind the dollar sign), I pushed it from my mind and focused on school.

The semester (probably the longest one of my college career) ended. I celebrated the majority of my classmates' graduation, packed up my cat and my belongings and drove home for the summer. I had started to tell people that I would be going to Mayo for three and a half weeks. The common response was something like, "Oh wow! You got an internship or a job there?!" Imagine everyone's disappointment when I said that I was going as a patient. I would only be home for the summer for about two weeks before relocating to Rochester, Minnesota. I decided against working and instead decided I wanted to declutter. Everything. Clothes, shoes, books, everything. I didn't even start packing for Mayo until the day before we left. As "moving day" approached, I found myself full of mixed feelings. I was nervous. I had no idea what to expect; what would each day be like? Would I see first hand why Mayo has such a great reputation? Or would I follow my usual pattern of treatments not working? I didn't even know what I would be doing every day! Would they take all my medicines away? Is Rochester a safe city? Is there anything fun to do there? Would Roger (my emotional support animal) be okay in the car and in a brand new city? I was told I would need to come up with goals on my first day. My only goals were:
1. Get rid of my knee braces
2. Decrease dizziness
3. Wake up feeling rested
4. Have a consistent exercise routine
I wanted to go into the program with an open mind. No expectations, no preconceived notions.

Rochester bound!

The weekend before my mom and I left for Mayo, we visited my brother, sister-in-law, and 11 month old niece. By this point I had told my mom many times, "yeah I've decided I'm not going to Mayo." There were too many unknowns that I was nervous about. However, my sweet little niece showed me that Aunt Sarah needed to be able to keep up with her. After a weekend of watching her crawl, going for walks, and dancing around the house I realized that nothing will change unless something changes. I was exhausted and out of breath after dancing with her for three minutes. I had to turn back and get my knee braces when we went on a walk. During the day I was so tired and in so much pain that I didn't have the energy to play with her the way I wanted to. I'm only 22 and she was only 1...she was going to get way more active in the years to come, and I was determined to keep up with her. With this new mindset, generous donations from our church family, enough clothes, food, and personal items for 3.5 weeks, and Roger the cat, my mom and I left for Rochester on May 16th. After crying all the way to the interstate I tried to ease the anxiety in my mind. I tried to be excited for a new adventure as we drove past the exit to my university and I began traveling through a new part of Iowa (which was actually not exciting because Iowa isn't the most beautiful place to drive through). As we neared Rochester, my anxiety spiked. However, as our car arrived in Rochester, I actually began to feel excited. Navigating to our apartment was difficult, especially since I was so distracted by looking for the Mayo Clinic (I didn't realize until later that it was the huge silver building...duh). We finally made it: across the street from Saint Mary's Hospital--part of Mayo Clinic--was our apartment. Hospitals have been my second home for years now, and I was in awe of the huge hospital that would be right outside my door. We checked into our apartment, and it was so precious, like something you would see in New York. After getting settled in, we fed ourselves and Roger and my mom and I decided to walk over to St. Mary's to see the building where my program would be. It. Was. Beautiful. I am what you would call a self-proclaimed hospital nerd. I can find my way around a new hospital in no time and I always have to check out the gift shop and the cafeteria. The building were my program would be is separate from the hospital (but connected by an underground tunnel; beyond cool). Thankfully it was unlocked so I knew exactly where I would need to go the next morning. We checked out the atrium and my heart flew. It was stunning. Live plants, chairs and tables, a tall ceiling with a beautiful leaf scultpure, and overlooking the atrium where I would check in every morning. Not to mention the beautiful landscape around the building and the hospital itself. In my own unique way, I was excited to be at Mayo. I told my mom, "can you believe we're actually here?!" like we were at Disneyland or another great destination. I was still unsure of what the next three weeks would be like, but I was feeling more and more relieved. 

Look Ma, we made it!

The beautiful atrium 

I got to walk past this every day!

Fearfully & Wonderfully Made: Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome

May 2018

Hello new and old friends! I have recently reconstructed my blog as I want to spend more time this summer blogging. I just finished my senior year of college, and I have one more semester (The Survivor's Lap) to go! This year was definitely the longest and most academically challenging of my college career. Now that senior year is finally over, I've realized just how crazy and how much work being a full time college student AND managing chronic illness is. To me it feels like having two full time jobs...and that's after only two years of severe chronic illness. So to recap, when I came to college as a little baby freshman (I seriously looked like a child) in 2014 I was already managing celiac disease, IBS, gastroparesis, and gastritis. Freshman year was not exactly successful; I left with many mental health issues. Sophomore year my mental health went downhill quickly, and I adopted my precious emotional support animal, Roger. In November of my sophomore year (2015), I ate at a salad bar on campus and was accidentally cross-contaminated with gluten. About a week later, I realized my joints hurt. It started out as the "big" joints: knees, hips, shoulders, elbows. As time progressed, the joint pain spread to every joint and the pain increased. I started telling doctors, "if it bends, it hurts". I went to my regular doctor and then the process of getting referred to other specialists started. By the beginning of 2018 I had seen eight specialists and tried a truckload of medications, acupuncture, and steroid shots. Keep in mind, during all of these appointments and treatments I was also still a full-time student for the rest of my sophomore year, all of my junior year, two summers of biochemistry (barf), and half of my senior year. I think it goes without saying that I've learned to balance the two things pretty well. After seeing three more specialists, I FINALLY got a referral to the Department of Genetics at the major teaching hospital in my state. I saw a physical medicine and rehab specialist who said that I had hypermobility syndrome. Ever since I was a little kid, I've been super flexible and can bend and move my body in weird ways. I have a host of "party tricks" that I've been impressing or creeping people out with for as long as I can remember. The doctor said hypermobility can be associated with a genetic condition called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. My first thought was, "how do you spell that?!" followed by "yeah that test will probably come back negative also." However, as I did more research and learned more about Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), it all started to make sense. In February of 2018, my mom and I drove on icy highways to see the geneticist. She had already reviewed my symptoms and called to get a family medical history. As soon as this nurse practitioner walked in the exam room, I knew I would love her. She talked to me for a bit and then felt my hand.
"I can tell by touching your skin that you have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome."
Even though I expected it, those words hit me like a ton of bricks. For over an hour, we talked about EDS, the complications, and the prognosis. My immediate question was, if this is genetic why doesn't anyone else in my family have it? The NP explained that since there are no signs and symptoms of EDS in any of my living or deceased relatives, they believe one of my genes mutated while I was being knit together, a de novo mutation.
"You are the de novo."
Hearing this caused multiple waves of emotion. Knowing that the mutation started with me, the only other people in my family who would be at risk for having EDS are my biological children. I was relieved that my family members wouldn't have to worry about having EDS, especially my precious 11 month old niece. But I instantly started worrying about the qualify of life my future children would have. The geneticist encouraged me to not worry about the future, but focus on dealing with this diagnosis and getting through college.
My next question was WHY I have multiple food sensitivities, four chronic GI issues, and headaches/severe migraines. The geneticist explained that all my other conditions are caused by EDS, often called comorbidities. That was when it all clicked. Ever since I was diagnosed with celiac disease seven years ago, I could never understand why I kept being diagnosed with more conditions. This was all so overwhelming, but it brought answers, closures, and peace. After the geneticist left, I burst into tears because I finally had an answer.

So what is this EDS? Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome is a genetic disorder that affects connective tissue and collagen. The reason why all my joints hurt is because the collagen in the connective tissue surrounding each joint is very weak and doesn't function properly. There are over 10 different types of EDS. I only have the hypermobility type (often called hEDS). Some types of EDS can be life-threatening. Thankfully hEDS is not.

Trying to comprehend all of this has been difficult, I won't lie. I didn't understand why God, when He was knitting me together, threw in a genetic mutation. For a couple weeks I was so bothered by this and stressed that my sleep was terrible and I had no appetite. A friend encouraged me to read Psalm 139 where the Psalmist talks about how as humans we are knit together and designed by God Himself:

For You created my inmost being;

   You knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14 

I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

    Your works are wonderful,

    I know that full well.

15 

My frame was not hidden from You

    when I was made in the secret place,

    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

16 

Your eyes saw my unformed body;

    all the days ordained for me were written in Your book

    before one of them came to be.

Reading this psalm started to transform my perspective on having EDS. Instead of being angry or ashamed that I have EDS, I followed Psalm 139 and praised God for making me so unique. It says in the psalm that we are "fearfully and wonderfully made" and God's works are "wonderful". When I told my brother and sister-in-law that I had EDS, the first thing my brother said was, "so you're a mutant?!" Some people might take offense to that, but I still find it hilarious! I'm learning to embrace my mutant self.

Yes, there are big battles every day. Yes, I am in pain the second I wake up and the second I fall asleep. Yes, I am nervous for what my future might look like. BUT...yes, I laugh every day. Yes, I have an army of family, friends, and classmates who have supported, accepted, and loved me no matter what. Yes, I find joy in the simple things. Yes, I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome but that changes nothing about my spirit and my soul.

It's Not Over Yet. Keep on keeping on,
Sarah :)

Boundary Maintence

February 2017

“We change our behavior when the pain of staying the same becomes greater than the pain of changing. Consequences give us the pain that motivates us to change.”
― Henry Cloud

A letter to those I've had to set up boundaries with:

I don't hate you. I don't see you as an enemy. Someone once coined the phrase "EGRs" (extra grace required) when interacting with some people. I try to reflect God's grace when I see you, and every day I pray for you.

Maybe we had a big falling out over something kind of dumb. I was trying to protect you and a mutual friend, but I went too far. You saw it as an attack and began to attack me.

Maybe you weren't supportive during a crisis and criticized me instead. If you aren't willing to stand by my side during the darkest days of my life, why do I call you a friend?

Maybe I told you something from my past and instead of believing me, you questioned me and doubted me and then made excuses for what happened.

Maybe you turned our friendship into a political debate. Being friends means putting differences apart and not forcing your opinion on your friend.

Maybe your daily selfies on Instagram, posts with 30 of your best friends, and bragging about your grades and popularity lowered my already low self-esteem.

Maybe you always said the wrong thing at the wrong time. You never thought about what you were going to say, but instead just blurted out whatever was on your mind.

As someone who battles depression and anxiety, taking care of my mental health is at the top of my list of priorities. If I'm not mentally healthy, nothing else I do will be healthy. When I start to see negative effects in my mental health and self-esteem, I take a step back and ask myself: what is causing this? Sometimes it's a person. Believe me when I say setting boundaries hurts. Part of me wants to "fake it until I make it" and avoid conflict, and part of me needs to set a boundary.

                   Boundary: a line that marks the limits of an area; a dividing line

I set up boundaries to protect myself and take care of myself. This is something nobody else can do for me, and it's something that I don't have to apologize for. You might not understand or you might deny everything I say, but the truth of the matter is this: somewhere along the way our friendship changed and it began to have a negative impact on me. I'm not placing blame; it could easily be my fault. Part of setting my boundaries means deleting you from Facebook and SnapChat and unfollowing you on Instagram. Different from what society says, deleting you on Facebook doesn't mean I hate you. I would actually like it if we could smile at each other in class or at church. The glares, eye rolls, and whispers to your posse of friends only make me feel worse. I do have a lot of guilt for setting boundaries, and this is something I'm still trying to work through. While we won't be talking every day or sharing details about our lives, we can still be civil human beings who know each other. The beautiful thing about boundaries is that they aren't permanent. Maybe I just needed some distance for a semester to internally process and pray about our friendship. I've never cut you off. If we have been cut off, that was your doing. Yes, I miss the good times we shared. The meals we ate together, the coffee and study dates, the late night talks, the laughs over inside jokes, and the feeling of friendship. But what you have to understand is Henry Cloud's quote at the beginning of this post: the pain of staying the same becomes greater than the pain of changing. Setting that boundary was something I had to do to keep myself healthy.

So no, I don't hate you. I don't wish bad things on you, and I certainly don't view you as an enemy. Setting boundaries is okay, in fact, I think it's a healthy thing to do. To anyone out there who is struggling with this issue, I leave you with these words. Be able to stick up for yourself, know your worth, and have faith in your own choices. Do what you have to do to keep yourself healthy and never doubt yourself.

It's Not Over Yet,

Sarah :)

5 Things I've Learned in 5 Semesters

January 2017

Hello blog readers! I am currently preparing to start semester six out of eight. What?! I still don't know how that's possible. It seems like I just started college as an itty bitty freshman. So much has changed since my freshman year. During my five semesters, I learned so much. Yes, I've learned all the science and every single detail about nutrition and metabolism, but I've also learned a lot about college in the process. So I have for you, five things I've learned in five semesters:

5. Don't stereotype people

Not all engineers are nerds who can't socialize. Not all design majors dress like Vogue models. Not all dietetics majors are competitive--actually that one is true. Not all girls in sororities are stupid; I know that's hard to believe but I know a chemical engineer major who loves the sorority life. They do exist! The point is, somebody's major doesn't define them. Their major doesn't shape who they are, what they believe in, or how they act.

4. Sleep is so important

In college, people love to brag about pulling all nighters to study as they chug their RedBull or large coffee. This is SO stupid! These people are almost always a wreck the next day. Ignore the advertisements on campus for the library being open 24/7, free coffee from midnight to 6am, or breakfast at 2am in the dining centers. Get some sleep! Your body will thank you for it and you will be able to perform better on exams if you're rested.

3. Be yourself

There are lots of pressures in college. The pressure to conform to society is intense. I noticed it myself during my freshman year. I noticed I was talking differently than I did in high school (thanks to being surrounded by people only my age) and it was hard to find time for family and friends back home. Eventually I "re-found" myself and realized it was okay to be myself and go to bed at 10pm. It was okay to not always be with someone or to not always be texting someone. It's good for the soul to be submerged into the college environment; you really do find who you are.

2. You won't find your future spouse on your first day

THIS. IS. A. LIE!!!! I don't know who came up with this dump myth, but it's not true. I never want to see the first guys I met at college ever. again. On this topic, drop the expectation to find your husband/wife at college. Just because your siblings did that doesn't mean you have to! If you find yourself getting down on yourself for only having three semesters left with no future spouse in sight, remind yourself why you started. For me, I went to college to become a registered dietitian and feed babies. Any mention of finding a spouse in there? Nope. That's not why I came to college.

1. Your friends will change

Someone told me this as a freshman, and I didn't believe them. However it is true. Looking back, there are three people I met freshman year who I still keep in contact with and talk to a regular basis. Some friends I just lost contact with once we didn't have class together. There was some pretty nasty fights and conversations with other friends. I've gone through seasons of life where I realized I deserved better than how some friends were treating me. Each semester, new friends have been brought into my life and I always feel like I've known them forever. It's completely natural for friendships to drift apart. It doesn't mean it has to be sad or bring you bitterness. Cherish the friends that do stick around though because those are the true gems.

One more thing to add: if you ever get discouraged or want to quit, reconnect with your freshman self. Remember how excited you were and how pumped you were to learn about something you're passionate about. Take a trip down memory lane and look through your freshman year album on Facebook. Rediscover that excitement during this temporary phase of life.

Keep on keeping on!

Sarah :)

Freshman Year, 19 years old, notice the lanyard...

Sophomore year, 20 years old

Junior year, 21 years old

"Quiet! Be still!"

October 2016

Mark 4:35-41:

 That day when evening came, He said to His disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” Leaving the crowd behind, they took Him along, just as He was, in the boat. There were also other boats with Him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke Him and said to Him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?”

He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

 They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey Him!”

Junior Year
First off, I don't know how I'm a junior. After this semester, I only have three semesters of my college education left. Yes, that is absolutely terrifying and kind of exciting. I've been spending the first nine weeks of this semester thinking about and processing everything that has happened since I came to college. There's been a lot of pain, confusion, hurt, and sorrow. I was distressed over thinking about what my memories of college will be when I leave in May, 2018. Would I be able to think about the laughs, great opportunities, amazing friends, and fun experiences? Or would I only be able to focus on the negative things that were said, the friends who walked away, the dark days, the endless anxiety, all the panic attacks, and the pain from other people's sins? After the first week of classes, I came to a very heartbreaking and troubling conclusion: a terrible sin had been committed against me freshman year. Realizing thing led me down a dark path of depression, fear, panic, shame and doubt that rocked and shattered my world. How could a God who loved me enough to die for me cause something horrible to happen to me? As I cried out to God, He seemed very distant. I asked Him for guidance and for even a small sign that He was still with me, but all I heard was nothing. This made me seriously question my faith. I didn't take comfort in reading the Bible or listening to Christian music. I found myself feeling angry towards God and resenting Him like I never had before. This caused even more panic and confusion. Did I still believe in God? Was He still involved in my life?

Two of my sweet connection group friends

Thankfully, I have an army of friends who know and love Jesus more than anyone else. They were able to encourage me, pray for me, and remind me of God's truths and promises. I am involved in the Salt Company through my university. Salt is a very large (we're talking almost 2,000 students) Christian ministry. It meets on Thursday and then there are smaller groups (called connection groups) that meet in dorms/apartments on campus and off campus. Sophomore year, I was involved in two different connection groups that just weren't the right fit for me. I wasn't able to truly share my struggles with my mental and physical health without feeling judged and unsupported. So obviously, I was very hesitant to join a connection group this year. I told one of my dear friends about my worries, and she recommended a group that meets at the on campus apartments. I didn't really want to go, but I knew falling away from Christian community would make my life even more miserable. As it turns out, this connection group is literally sent from God. I've only known the 10 or so girls involved in the group for nine weeks, but I feel so supported and loved by them. I have shared about my struggle with doubting in God and those struggles were met with pure love, support, and encouragement. Having a loving and stable environment to go to every Monday evening has helped me so much! Another part of the Salt Company, is the famous Fall Retreat at a campground. This year's retreat was my first time going. Again, I didn't really want to go, but felt I should. I get very anxious and overwhelmed in large crowds so I was worried about that (since 900 students attend this retreat!), and I would be away from my emotional support animal Roger all day. The retreat brought in a speaker and there was four sessions over the weekend. During a very loud and rowdy game of volleyball, I got super overwhelmed and needed to find a quiet place. So I found a place under a big tree and started reading the passage from the morning's session on fear. The passage came from Mark 4:35-41. The story of Jesus calming the storm is very familiar to me; I only learned it 400 times in Sunday school. While reading through it, I began to see a lot of similarities between this iconic story and my own story.

Jesus' and His disciples were in the middle of a storm (called a squall in this passage) in the middle of the ocean. I can only imagine there was lots of lightening, thunder, rain, and huge waves. I think we can all agree that they were probably very scared. After all, this storm could potentially kill them. So where was Jesus? He was sleeping on a cushion. His disciples were confused; how could Jesus be sound asleep when everyone was about to drown?! So they take Jesus up, asking Him if He cares if they drown. Jesus then tells the storms to be "quiet! Be still!" and the storm obeys. Then Jesus asks His disciples why they are so afraid and asks if they still don't have faith? The disciples are in shock that even winds and waves obey Jesus. I am definitely in the middle of a storm. For me, the storm isn't thunder, lightening, rain, and wind. It's fear, hopelessness, doubt, anxiety, confusion, guilt, and anger. For eight weeks, I felt like God was sleeping. I didn't feel any connection to Him or comfort from Him, and that terrified me. Just like the disciples, I questioned my fate and God's plan for my life. Was He just going to let me "drown" in the storm?

"Quiet! Be still!"

Right after I discovered the connection

this passage and my own story

All Jesus has to do is tell the storm to stop. When He asks His disciples why they were so afraid, He also asks if they still don't have faith. The word "still" really stuck out to me. I've been through a lot: six years of managing seven chronic physical conditions and three mental conditions, I almost lost my grandpa three years ago, family conflict, friends leaving me, and the challenges that have come with going to college. But guess what? I'm still here. God has brought me through all of that and more. So why am I doubting Him? If God can get me through all of that, what was making me think He couldn't bring me through this?

"Even the winds and waves obey Him."

Water is the most powerful force on earth. Jesus is so powerful that He can calm waves in the midst of a storm! Spend a few minutes and try to wrap your mind around that. The point is, if He can calm the most powerful force on earth, surely He can calm the storm that is raging inside of me.

After reading this passage and reflecting on how it applies to me, I was filled with unexplainable hope and confidence in God. I felt like the thing that I had been missing for the first eight weeks of school was finally returned to me. Throughout the rest of the retreat and on my drive back to school that night, I couldn't stop smiling...even though half the time I was crying because I'm just an emotional soul who cries at pretty much anything. I can't express enough how impactful the Fall Retreat and my experiences within the Salt Company have been for me. God is absolutely working wonders through all of this, and I'm eternally thankful.

At the Salt Company Fall Retreat with my connection group

The End is Just a New Beginning

May 2016

Beginning, just let that word wash over you

It's all right now; love's healing hands have pulled you through

So get back up, take step one, leave the darkness and feel the sun

Because your story is far from over, and your journey has just begun

Well, friends, I am halfway done with my college education. Yes, I am terrified and excited about that. I am pursuing a degree in Dietetics and Child, Adult, and Family Services. I was officially accepted into my program as well as my college's honor society. I finished the year without failing any of my classes and made some new friends this semester. When I finished my freshman year, I didn't want to leave campus and my friends. My thoughts about my sophomore year ending couldn't be any more opposite. I was dying to leave. I enjoyed packing because it went I was getting closer to leaving. Once I was finally freed after my last final and could go home, I unpacked everything in under 48 hours. See, the ending of this school year means a new beginning for me. A new beginning to start fresh, rest, renew my passion for working in a hospital, and get a break from the stresses and anxieties of school. Sophomore year was pretty bad; there was definitely good moments, memories, and things I learned, but overall it was pretty crappy. I learned a lot though and more than just nutrition and microbes. Below are a list of things I've learned and how learning those things has made me feel like a completely different person than I was a year ago:

1. Take Care of Yourself....and walk away from toxic people

Everybody knows how important it is to take care of yourself in college, especially if you're managing chronic illness. There's another type of self-care though. It's called self-respect. Throughout my sophomore year, I can think of multiple "friends" who ended up not being so friendly after all. I was heartbroken each and every time one of these people crossed the line, went too far, or said something deeply hurtful. I found myself wanting to do everything in my power to keep their friendship. Then I realized, why am I using my limited amount of time and energy to try and convince someone to keep being friends with me? After realizing this, I began to see these conflicts as not my fault-but theirs. One of my good friends pointed this out to me also. I told her about all the drama with each friend, and she said: "Sarah, you realize none of that is your fault right?" I don't know why I was blaming myself and taking responsibility for their lack of maturity or understanding. After this I really started to examine the "friendships" I had with people, and it turns out some of them were pretty toxic. I started to have more respect and love for myself and walk away from the "friends" who were actually "people I know."

2. Emotional Attachments are Dangerous

This lesson goes along with number one. I realized towards the end of the year that the girl who was my first friend at college and who I loved dearly wasn't actually that good of a friend to me. She had made me feel bad for choices I've made, disrespected my faith and political views, and was far from understanding during a crisis moment in life. I still wanted to view her as the nice girl I met freshman year, but she isn't that same person! It took a friend to finally say: "Sarah...do you have to be friends with this person??" to see that just because someone is your BFF freshman year, doesn't mean they're always going to stay like that. That's when I discovered that I make emotional attachments with people. This has put me in a bad position and unhealthy relationship several times before.  

3. Take Time to Love Yourself

Let's be honest: I manage celiac disease, IBS, gastritis, gastroparesis, hypoglycemia, slow transit constipation, myofascial pain syndrome, depression, anxiety, and panic disorder. Yes, 10 chronic illnesses. That's a lot not only for me to manage but for others to manage. Sometimes I catch myself thinking something along the lines of, maybe so-and-so said that hurtful thing because she couldn't handle me being sick. If this is true, I can only hope not, but I definitely struggle with self-esteem and wondering if people like me or if I tell them I have 10 chronic illnesses, they'll run the other direction. This kind of stuff will destroy you. Towards the end of the semester, I decided to set aside time for myself. I treated myself to nice coffee (decaf, because caffeine, anxiety, and hypoglycemia do not mix well at all) drink, did something I enjoyed, wrote down a list of what I like about myself, or went on a quiet walk all by myself. I think I'm slowly getting to a place where I am more accepting and loving of myself. Instead of thinking, what is this person going to think when I talk about my health, I think, maybe I'll be able to touch or help someone else by sharing my health. My health doesn't define my life, but it is part of it. If someone can't handle that, they can leave.

4. Be Yourself

I used to hide the fact that I'm gluten-free. I used to avoid talking about my anxiety. I used to purposely not say anything about my emotional support animal who lives in the dorms with me. That was exhausting! One time I "accidentally" mentioned something about my cat--and guess what? The world didn't explode! The girl I was talking to was actually really interested in my cat and thought it was SO COOL that I could have my cat with me. After that, I realized it was okay to be myself and not try to hide what is a big part of my life. Being more authentic and honest has helped me accept myself and has also helped open doors to great discussions with others!

5. Boys Complicate Things-stick to brothers

Having a boyfriend or "talking" to a guy is great and exciting, but it is also stressful, time-consuming, and complicated. I've experienced this a couple times (and it ended in a flaming train wreck), and I've witnessed friends experience it (and seen it end in a flaming train wreck). You know what's really great though? Having guys that are more like brothers to you. Call me crazy, but this is actually great. My brother lives two hours away so I don't get to see him much. Thankfully I've been able to meet some XY species at college who I think of as brothers. There is absolutely zero attraction there so I don't have to worry about that; instead I think of them as my brothers. They are all followers of Christ as well, and I can ask for prayers or advice from them. Nobody gets lead on, hurt, or upset. Everybody is just friends-brothers and sisters in Christ.

So there you have it! Summer is a new beginning. By the grace of God, I survived sophomore year and am on to bigger and better things.

It's Not Over Yet,

Sarah

Roger Gene: My Furry Fighter for Happiness

Prepare yourself for an overload of cuteness. If you know me at all, chances are you know about Roger. In case you don't (plus I just love sharing our story), here's a recap:

First picture

The first three weeks of my sophomore year were some of the worst weeks of my life. This is a happy post so we're not going into detail, but I knew that I would be able to sleep better and cope with life better if I had my kitty with me. Oliver is my cat at home; he's been with us for almost 12 years. When I was sick in college, Oliver was a constant companion who slept with me, snuggled with me, and could sense when I wasn't feeling good or sad. So how does one get a cat into a college dorm? Thanks to my amazing hall director, I talked with the folks at the student disability resources on campus. They were able to give me the exact documentation that my doctor needed to provide. It took two tries, but my superhero doctor was able to provide the correct documentation needed to bring a cat into the dorm to work as an emotional support animal. As much as I missed my Oliver, I knew he would not be happy in a dorm. He's been living the sweet life for almost 12 years and was getting very spoiled by my parents. I was worried that bringing him to college would stress him out and he would die. Obviously, that would do nothing to help me. So I came up with Plan B: adopt a new cat. The day after I got the "okay" to bring a cat into my dorm, my mom and one of my best friends went to an animal shelter close to my house. It was a complete downpour, but I would have walked through a blizzard to get a cat. We told the sweet girl who was working at the shelter that we were looking for an older cat who was declawed. We explained that the cat would be living in a dorm and acting as an emotional support animal. The first cat I visited was a massive black cat who didn't like to be picked up because he was so fat. I petted the cat and he glared at me. That definitely wasn't going to work. The second cat was a little bit more friendly, but didn't like to be held and liked to "play bite" which translated into the cat chewing on my hand. I remember looking at my mom and shaking my head. I was starting to get worried that I wouldn't find a cat. Plus I felt terrible rejecting the other two cats. My mom asked the girl if there were any other cats.

Car ride home

"Hmmm...I can show you Roger." She went on to explain that Roger was only three years old and had his claws but he was very sweet and liked to cuddle. As we walked towards the kennel, a brown and black cat let out a loud meow and jumped from the floor on to the side of the kennel. Holding on my his paws, he meowed at me. My friend laughed out loud and said, "this is the one!" As soon as I picked him up, I knew that he would be coming to live with me. Roger started to purr right away and loved to be held. Go ahead and call me cheesy, but I had tears in my eyes when I told the girl that I would take him. She said we could change his name, but Roger seemed like a good fit. Roger came from a cat hoarder house. The girl working didn't tell us how many cats were there, but about a month before he was adopted there was a story about a house with 40 cats living in it. Because of this, Roger was used to eating as much food as possible and as quickly as possible. This isn't good for his tummy so we were encouraged to feed him smaller meals throughout the day.  this going to work? After we were finished, we went back to Roger's kennel. I got to put him in a box and carry him out of the shelter. I felt like a new parent: scared but happy. My mom had to pay for him and I had to sign a bunch of forms. The whole time I was wondering, is at the same time. It was still raining so my mom went to drive the car around. Roger tried to break out of his box, which scared the living crap out of me and my friend. Once in the car, Roger meowed for a while before climbing in my lap. We took him to the vet to him checked out. He passed with flying colors and slept on my lap the whole way back to school. Once we got him in the building, he explored his new room (my single dorm room). My mom stayed for a while until we were both settled. After she left, I put in a Jane Austen movie and just watched Roger. He adapted immediately and was giving himself a bath, purring, and sleeping on the bed. Two nights after I got Roger, I slept through the night for the first time in one month!

First night at college!

In the six and a half months that I've had Roger, my quality of life has improved so much. Not only am I sleeping amazingly better, but Roger has been able to help me through panic attacks and moments of high stress and/or emotion. Two of the greatest feelings in the world are when he greets me meowing at the door and when he holds my hand when I'm sleeping. I'm so incredibly thankful for his presence; we rescued each other. Living in a cat hoarder house and then a small kennel with two other cats must have been rough. It makes me so happy to see Roger sleeping on my bed or in my window, where cats belong. Roger loves to eat so he always makes sure I get out of bed to feed him. He knows when I'm upset; he always comes over to me, licks my hand or face, and purrs. Sometimes he'll act really silly and and roll around on the floor while meowing at me, which always makes me laugh.

One of my favorite pictures

Having a cat in the dorms has worked really well. I've only had two negative encounters with people who didn't know what to say about Roger so they said the wrong thing, but other than that everyone has been excited there's a cat and glad that I have him with me. Roger has a steady fan club and his own Instagram account (the_rog1029), follow him! :) So there you go, that's the story of my furry fighter for happiness!

It's Not Over Yet,
Sarah (and Roger Gene)

Just a few of my favorite pictures :)