Tag: chronic-illness

  • The Audacity of Me

    The Audacity of Me

    As one does, I’ve been having weird conversations with friends.

    I speak a lot about recovery and my chronic illnesses but honestly that’s not who I am as a person, they are afflictions or parts of me that I focus heavily on because they are important to me. I have a very difficult time gauging how I’m viewed by my peers in the world and viewing myself as a “whole.” Sometimes I get hyperfixated on characteristics or personality traits I have, learn a great deal about them, then use that fresh knowledge to bombard the general public with what I’ve learned in an attempt to connect. You are welcome.

    In yet another attempt to better understand myself and the relationships I have with my friends I’ve been conducting a bit of a social experiment by asking the people in my life to find words that they would use to describe their perspective of me.

    I’m not going to lie, it’s been a humbling experience but I’ve really enjoyed it. Some of my friends are really dark, some of my friends are overly kind, some are really deep thinkers, and many of them are freaking hilarious! I’ve received such diverse commentary that I’d like to keep this going in my life even if only for entertainment purposes. I’m understanding how I carry myself, present myself to the world, and I am even learning more about some of the things I stand for deep inside. I’m going to continue to find new words for myself; and ask others to help me do so; at the very least I’m growing my vocabulary.

    One term that came up recently was “audacity”.

    I’m not going to lie, I tripped over myself a bit. I love the word but mostly because I’ve heard it used as an exasperation of flabberghast. In my own internal vision, when I hear that word I think “ I can’t believe they had the AUDACITY to treat me like that.” Or, “The AUDACITY of that man!” as someone was taken back by feelings of being shocked or appalled.

    Typically, I associated the word with a negative trait but when that was used to describe me it wasn’t presented as such. It appeared to be a good thing in context. That meant I had to know the REAL definition. I’ve been very wrong about definitions of words before, or I’ve had a skewed perspective of what I thought it really meant, and when I find out what those words truly mean it changes the way I use them in the future or perceive my own use of them in the past.

    Here’s what I found when I “googled it.”

    au·dac·i·ty

    /ôˈdasədē,äˈdasədē/

    noun

    • 1. a willingness to take bold risks.
      “her audacity came in handy during our most recent emergency”
    • 2. rude or disrespectful behavior; impudence.
      she
      had the audacity to pick up the receiver and ask me to hang up”

      Oxford Dictionary

      OR

    The quality or state of being audacious: such as

    a: intrepid boldness

    knights admired for their audacity

    b: bold or arrogant disregard of normal restraints

    had the audacity to defy his boss

    Merriam-Webster Dictionary

    Yep, that’s me! In all respects and definitions. Well played friend, well played. If I turned a mirror onto myself and looked at the list of experiences I’ve collected along my life, that would be an excellent word to describe how it all happened. I’ve also never quite noticed that it essentially has a positive twist as well as an “abrasive” one. Interesting…

    I tend to jump into action fairly quickly, usually with great intentions, and it can play out in various ways. I wouldn’t say that I’m a planner by any means; I tend to lean more towards the side of the “figure it out as I go” or “fuck around and find out,” depending on who you ask. I rely heavily on my ability to adapt and overcome pretty much any obstacle that happens to be in my path. I may not always make the best decision; that much is obvious, and I don’t often take into account how my actions will reflect upon others in my life. I take risks and enjoy the thrill ride (or stress ride) that it gives me. It’s my version of skydiving.

    I am riddled with anxiety! If I ever give off the perception that I am not, then throw that idea right out the window please. At many points throughout my day I experience the feelings of fear, doubt, and concern. I question whether the decisions I make are right or wrong. I get caught up thinking about things of the past and have a tendency to dwell a little too long on things that may never happen. I have had moments where I’ve experienced paralysis by analysis and my self-worth has fluctuated (to say the least) over the years. I also have collected a series of tools to help me navigate them all.

    Me being me though, I have found that those feelings are going to be there regardless of what I choose to do. I’ve sat in them and allowed myself to feel them deeply, to an ill extent that injured myself and others in the past. I’ve ignored the feelings and pushed myself way too hard, which has forced me to make life-changing decisions and caused concern from those I love. I’ve done entirely the right things at times, been a major success, even helped save lives. In the same breath, I’ve made decisions that have contributed (accidentally of course) to the loss of it all. Full-spectrum experience as I call it and I hope to be able to continue it for at least a little while longer, maybe even be able to share some of it with the people that care to listen.

    So, what does that mean? Well, I don’t know. I haven’t found many “no-win” situations as of yet. The only time I’ve lost in a situation is when I didn’t learn anything and that’s on me. If I’m spending time doing what I’m doing then it might as well be meaningful and purposeful.

    That does not mean that I plan everything I do, far from it actually. What it means is that my entire purpose in life is to experience it. To be here for it. I don’t know what the purpose of it all is. I don’t know if the memories will be of use to me in the future or beyond death. I don’t know if I’m going to be a hero or a villain in your story. I don’t know if it will all end tomorrow or if I will one day be uploaded into the matrix to live forever. I don’t know. All are equally possible in my mind. If one is, they all are. It’ll happen the way it’s going to happen and I’m just here for the ride.

    I’d love to be the guy that says that I’ve surrounded myself with like-minded people, you know what, no. I’m glad I haven’t. I redact that previous statement. I take it back. I’ve been there and done that.

    Instead, I’m grateful that I’ve now surrounded myself with a diverse crowd of people. I don’t want an echo chamber, anytime I attempt that it turns out horribly. I can choose to feed my body, mind, and soul resources it needs to grow and surround myself with a diverse and well-rounded crowd of souls to get the full scope of my surroundings. My world is filled with diversity and differences of opinion. We give constructive criticism kindly, we don’t insult or harm. We don’t dislike one another when we disagree, we value it, elaborate on it. That allows me to have the audacity to be the person I am today.

    Yes, strangers react to me. I can’t control that. Sometimes they are even assholes. That’s ok. That’s them. It doesn’t have to affect me and I can take what I like from it and leave the rest behind.

    The friends and the family that I love have always respected me and my personality. Yes, sometimes we have growing pains but we love one another deeply and love each other unconditionally. Knowing that I have a small group of supportive and strong individuals standing behind me, by my side, holding me up, and sometimes out in front protecting me, it makes it very easy for me to do what I want to do without actually risking it all. It takes the risk right out of the equation. I get the freedom to make bold choices, be audacious, be the person I believe the world needs right now.

    I’m not saying that I am the solution. Far from it. I am saying I want to be a part of one. I am growing to be ok with shouldering the responsibility of standing firm in a moral code when it appears that nobody else is. It’s just my perspective that’s skewed. I am building a character worth carrying into my future. I am building a legacy for my future family members to be proud of, becoming an ancestor to someone. I am making a difference in my community and the lives of the people that truly need it and making history whether I know it or not, whether I get any recognition for it or not.

    I live out loud because I suffered in silence and I encourage you to do the same. Be audacious with me. Grow your own audacity to do something you believe in today and do it because you want to do it. Follow the pull deep inside of you and it won’t steer you wrong. It’s there for a reason, let it show.

  • The Zoomies

    The Zoomies

    (Originally Posted in 2024, Migrated to new website November 2025)

    Often on my “flare days” I cannot get much accomplished. My rheumatoid arthritis simply will not allow me to do most simple tasks, let alone any heavier lifting. As you can imagine, being able to lift items larger than a pen may be detrimental to a cemetery groundskeeper such as myself.

    I’m not going to lie. It has been a difficult path and many of my flare days have been spent miserable. Some days, I’m nearly unbearable to be around because of my grumpiness. Unfortunately, it is a comorbidity issue you see; I am also an addict in recovery. Because of these, I tend to get down on myself and stay there for a while; as I’m sure many people do, but I do it better than the average person.

    Either way, I was attempting to find a way to keep my brain occupied so I decided to write. My cousin Susan has been a great supporter of mine and her requests echo in my mind whenever I realize that it has been a while since I last typed.

    I don’t particularly have anything to speak about; nothing in the forefront of my mind that’s for sure. I like to write about things like my illness or my recovery because I hope they help another person, not to be a martyr. I also never wish to sound like a broken record or preachy but they definitely are my “low-hanging fruit.”

    I can however, write about my experiences on a daily basis. Perhaps allow my fingers to walk any readers through a glimpse into the life and mind of me, Ehren A.

    Well, as you know I am a groundskeeper. I drive tractors, dig holes, plant plants, remove snow, help set up services, do internments and disinterment’s, help visitors, as well as do all kinds of maintenance projects with a great team of people. It is very laborious work, but I love every minute of it. In fact, if you have taken the time to browse around my website or social media, you’d probably realize exactly how perfect of a job this is for me.

    That’s pretty much what I do each day for responsibilities at work, but I do get the additional perks of being able to care for the natural wildlife; often saving a trapped or injured bird, luring coyotes back into the bushes, or unsticking the occasional scared bat. There’s never a dull moment and I have to thank the team for accepting me as I am and teaching me all they have so far. It has been a great experience.

    By night, I try and help other people with their recovery or work on my own.

    In the last couple of weeks, I have spent some time volunteering at the local Strathcona County Museum. I was honored to be asked to guide their ghost tours for their Spooky STRATHMA Event. I was able to participate during their kid’s event, but the day of the adult only event I was stricken with laryngitis. I lost my voice completely for the first time in my life. I am still struggling to get it back. I felt personally targeted, I had been so damned excited, but I did let it go eventually.

    The team was incredible. I have never sat with such a diverse, accredited, and accepting group of intelligent minds in that way. We celebrated the 25th Anniversary of the Museum and we all got to know each other a bit better. I myself being one of the “newer members” made sure to dress-to-impress. I was allowed to provide the Ghost Tour one last time; just for our volunteers, and boy was it fun.

    I lead us through the Jail Cell, down the dark hallway, and into the pitch-black basement. I reminisced and shared a part of me that I rarely share with others now, the paranormal. God was it good to be back!

    I had honest laughs and learned a lot about the volunteers and what makes them tick. I must say that we (as a society) are very lucky to have volunteer groups in our midst. Often, they are thankless groups of people that work tirelessly to achieve so many great things that are enjoyed by all. People don’t see how the benefits appear in their lives; they simply enjoy the perks. Typically, the changes; any changes really, are driven by volunteers anonymously or selflessly attempting to make a difference. Many times, they don’t even know why they are doing it. They are just good people trudging to build a better something; anything, for others to enjoy.

    In-between all of this, I am a Halloween person at home too. Yes, I’m “that guy” with the “look-at-me” front yard and effects you can hear around the block. I was very late to the punch this year with decorating.

    Normally, I take some time off from work and decorate my yard weeks in advance. I have many decorations that require assembly, lights, effects, and we never know when it’s going to snow. Normally it snows the day after I get all of my electronics up so I spend the day brushing off everything before setting up the last of the decorations for the kids to enjoy.

    I left it in God’s hands this year and decided to focus on helping others with their struggles. Things would work out.

    Well I can say that they did. Everything worked out great. Somehow, I was able to get all of my decorations out. I even designed it in a way that people could come up to the house. The treats were given out by my in-laws and wife at our front door. The brave could go around the back and do a loop through a 12-foot-tall clown’s mouth and into my back yard, where my more frightening decorations would be located.

    We took some time to step away and take our two-year-old around the block trick-or-treating. When I looked back at my house and saw about 25 people on my driveway, heard the screaming, and saw all of the lights illuminating a fog-machine covered back yard I couldn’t help but smile.

    The temperature was about +12 Degrees Celsius. The kids got to enjoy a frost-free evening and didn’t have to be bundled in their snow jackets like they always had been in previous years.

    At 9:30 PM it was finally time to turn off the lights and sounds as the streets had emptied. I unplugged my dueling werewolves, 7 foot screaming banshee lady, my disembowelled wriggling zombie torso, I noted the light dusting of snow flakes starting to fall from the sky. It was ok though, no real snow in the forecast. Nothing I couldn’t blow or shake off in the morning.

    I joked and raised my fist at the sky, “is that all you’ve got?” I then took a few extra minutes to box up my lighting and some extension cords before heading off to bed fearing a minor divine retaliation.

    I was so proud of what I had accomplished and I was glad that I hadn’t worried or stressed about it. I had done everything right; I had done it perfectly. I got many compliments and thanks from people, which really pumps my tires. By the end of the event, I was watching the videos being posted and grinning from ear-to-ear. Another successful Halloween and an amazing event organized by our Community League that I helped found! My chest pumped up, I even called myself “The King of Halloween!” joking about how I had gotten away with it this year.

    The next morning I awoke to a foot of snow covering all of my decorations. We have since gotten even more, and even more. It has melted, and thawed. I have spent an hour or two each day bringing in what decorations I can fit so that they can hang and dry overnight before packing them up and stowing them away. It has been 15 days since Halloween and I am only now seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

    I like to believe that; every now and then, I do still need a bit of a reminder to be humble. I can say that last year, I would have been grumbling about all of this. This year I am a different person. I can see the lesson here.

    The goal of my story is not to brag about volunteering or anything really. It’s to share a bit of my life with you.

    At the moment, I am flaring. I can’t really open my hands and everything hurts to touch. What I can say is that writing this out and posting it; as well as making a social media video this morning, has helped keep my brain occupied for a little while. I have been able to keep my mind off of my issues and share a bit of the past couple of weeks.

    I was also a father, a son, and a husband this week but I don’t count that as work. My family members are the real heroes for putting up with me for as long as they have; they do the tough tasks. I just drink too much coffee, eat too much sugar when I know I shouldn’t, and get “the zoomies.” Everyone else in my life just straps in. I thank them for it.

  • Fingers Crossed

    Fingers Crossed

    I had no idea what Rheumatoid Arthritis was when my doctor gave me the diagnosis. Even as he explained the disease, the gravity didn’t quite sink in. My symptoms had already been aggressively showing themselves over the past several months, so the disease itself was already a reality but now it had words attached to it.

    It all started with my right wrist.

    At the time I was an account manager for an electrical wholesaler. It was my job to travel around Northern Alberta and visit customers like Sawmills, Pulp Mills, Oil Sites, and other industrial locations. Our company provided them with services and products such as explosion proof lighting, automation solutions, buttons and controls, programmable logic controllers (PLC’s), and motor control centres (MCC’s) so it involved a lot of travelling and touring around facilities; often with another representative or specialist.

    In the year prior I had been given a new sales territory. It incorporated the Lloydminster Alberta Area and extended north to Cold Lake and south to Camrose; everything in between. I spent most of my time in the Lloydminster and Bonnyville Regions because my company had a branch there.

    I remember that I had been doing some yard work at home and believed I must have lightly sprained my right wrist. I decided to take some Tylenol to manage the pain and took off to Lloydminster for a few days for work; I’d be staying in a hotel and I was sure I’d heal by the time it was time to return home.

    The first day was pretty normal; felt like I had a sprained wrist so I wrapped it and tried not to use it very much, but by that evening it had turned into a dull throb.

    When I woke up the next day, my left wrist was also feeling sprained. I could barely get myself dressed. My right wrist felt like someone had just hit it with a hammer and my left wrist felt sprained. I started for home that evening.

    The following day; both wrists felt like I had hit them hard. I couldn’t open or close my hands and my fingers were puffed up like sausages. The pain had also navigated its way into my shoulders.

    By the end of the week, the feeling was in both wrists, both shoulders, both hips, knees, ankles, hips, and down my spine. My temperature began to fluctuate; cold chills and hot flashes in rotation.

    Luckily, I had been in contact with my family doctor and he immediately sent me for bloodwork, noting a lot of swelling in my joints.

    By the time the bloodwork came back a day or two later, I was unable to leave the couch. I just laid there writhing in pain trying not to cry. I couldn’t hold anything like a phone or remote; not like I could really focus long enough anyway.

    The phone call came in and my doctor explained to me that my Rheumatoid Factor was incredibly high and I needed immediate medical attention. He placed me on a set of painkiller prescriptions while he put me in touch with a Rheumatologist.

    I left my position as account manager so I could be closer to home and focus on getting to healthcare appointments. I began working as a Commercial Project Sales Manager with another local Electrical Wholesaler.

    I met with my Rheumatologist and received my diagnosis on October 18th, 2019. He sent me for a myriad of other tests. He explained that Rheumatoid Arthritis is an autoimmune disease; it’s an overactive immune system that fights not just the bad cells but also the good. It would slowly attack my joints and organs. He also showed me images of the disfigured toes and fingers that people often experience if the disease goes untreated. Oddly enough, the images made sense in my head of what was happening to me.

    My condition felt as if all of my joints were trying to slowly bend sideways or backwards; I liken it to “boneitis” for anyone who has seen that Futurama Episode. If I tried to open my hands, it felt as if there were elastic bands holding them closed; the knuckles in my feet felt like they were large marbles.

    The biggest thing going through my head; this is forever and I’d never get to hold my son. Oh, I didn’t mention that my wife was 5 months pregnant at the time I got diagnosed?

    My poor wife having to watch her husband wriggle in pain on the couch, not being able to do anything to help, herself having a rough pregnancy and me being too laid up to give her the attention she deserved. My step daughter, having to watch her step father crying in pain; moaning in agony.

    I still drift off in thought whenever I remember these times. It was probably the most stressful situation I’ve been in to date and I’ve had a few. It is the closest I have ever been to suicide and that’s even including all of my drinking years but that’s a story for another time.

    My rheumatologist put me on Methotrexate and Plaquenil (Hydroxychloroquine) to manage the condition. I was to be injecting myself with a needle in the stomach once per week with Methotrexate; a chemical used in larger doses for Chemotherapy and Abortions.

    My pharmacist; an amazing woman to me, helped teach me how to inject myself by pinching a fatty area on my stomach and injecting myself subcutaneously. Thank God for her because I was scared; I had never had to deal with so many medical things at once and injecting myself with a fluorescent yellow radioactive substance was not my idea of a good time.

    I began my regiment.

    The methotrexate would result in me feeling as if I had the flu for about 13-24 hours following the injection. I took some vitamins to try and alleviate the nausea so I could focus a bit more. Over the next few months, I tried to learn a routine. I’d take my needle on a weekend so I wouldn’t be affected as much at work, I’d eat certain things with lots of vitamins to try and help but the gross feeling was getting too much to handle.

    We swapped my meds; we kept the methotrexate injections but replaced the hydroxychloroquine with leflunomide. It helped and I’ve been on the same regiment ever since.

    While my condition was beginning to improve, the rest of life was happening. I had taken in an abused German shepherd to rehabilitate but he was too aggressive to have around a baby. I had to rehome him. He was my sobriety buddy and it was incredibly hard emotionally for me. I still have issues in regards to it.

    On January 31, 2020 my grandmother was admitted to hospital with cancer. She passed away February 6th, 2020 with me and my uncle by her side.

    On February 10, 2020 my son was born in the same hospital; three floors up.

    By the end of February, the Covid-19 Pandemic had reached Alberta. Lockdowns began.

    During all of the excitement I had begun to feel a little better and was focusing pretty heavily on getting my affairs in order so we could bring my son into the world. I lapsed in learning more about my condition. It was improving and I was feeling a lot better, so what more would I need to know?

    The autoimmune portion was what I had missed.

    When speaking with my doctor about what to do about the pandemic he reminded me that my condition was a very serious autoimmune disease. My knuckles and joints were just a physical symptom but I have a very real invisible disease that leaves me susceptible to infections and limits my treatment options. With his guidance, I decided to leave the sales industry, stop my social volunteering, in search of something more isolated. I couldn’t risk getting the virus; I was compromised.

    Funny, because I had actually begun to feel better and was managing my illness with medications and had begun to exercise. In fact, since my sobriety date of September 21, 2018 I had lost roughly 25 lbs through exercise and better lifestyle choices.

    My father; my savior, offered me a position working with him at his thermodynamics consulting company. I could learn metalwork, design, drawings, and stay away from the general public. For me it was great. I got to spend time with my family, I got to go for long walks on the family farm, and I learned all kinds of new skills.

    I was still “flaring” on occasion and they were becoming more and more frequent; close to two or three days a week. My whole body would be in shooting pain; just like my RA had come back. Again, I was sent for all kinds of lab work but all of it came back normal. My condition was managed according to their tests so my symptoms were a result of something else.

    In February 2021, I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. My rheumatologist told me that there was nothing he could do for me any further and handed me a piece of paper with a helpline number on it. I then spoke with my family doctor and he explained the condition. He said, “there is nothing we can do to help aside from prescribing anti-anxiety medication but we try to use those only as a last resort. This condition does not respond to medication or pain killers. Right now, the best thing you can do is eat healthy, exercise to get in shape, and work on creating a sleep regiment.”

    So that’s exactly what I began doing; after having another complete emotional breakdown of course.

    This is by no means every last detail of my journey and it continues every day. Honestly a lot of it was an emotional blur. During my diagnosis I was only a year sober, emotional as hell, had a pregnant wife, had family with illnesses, and a life going on. I was trying to hold it all together.

    Today my condition is managed and my symptoms of rheumatoid arthritis are minimal. I’m very lucky to be where I am right now; others are not so lucky or take years to receive a diagnosis. My heart goes out to all of those dealing with a chronic illness or disease.

    Obviously, I have also touched on a few other topics I could write about in future blogs but I was trying to stay focused. If you’d like to hear more about anything in particular, please send me an email letting me know. What I’m hoping for is to use this as a tool to learn more about myself; perhaps others can use my experiences to learn from as well.

    Thank you for reading my first blog entry. I also want to thank everyone who has been a support to me along the way. I could never have gotten this far alone.

    Stay tuned for more and thanks again for being a part of my path in life.