Ehren Ackerman

Tag: health

  • The Bubble Boy Part Deux

    The Bubble Boy Part Deux

     In a world gone haywire, how does one stay sane?

    The world is against me, after a series of events out of my control, I am a victim. I have been wronged, held back, limited, beaten down for too long and I can’t take it anymore. If only they would be more like me, think more like me, the world would be more peaceful and get along better. The struggles I am experiencing would be alleviated. I wouldn’t feel guilty and ashamed anymore, I could go back to feeling proud of who I am. I could help others.

    That was my mindset on many evenings as I finished up my 5th or 6th beer. I’d grumble to myself about the state of affairs in the world around me, in the lives of the people around me. The company I worked for. In my head, I was solving all of their problems. Why couldn’t they understand it? What are they not getting? How dumb can they be?

    As I rounded my 9th my high ego would turn into a mood of self-loathing. I had wrecked it all. I had caused everything in my life to collapse. I had hurt so many people along the way. Nothing I could do was good enough and no matter what I tried; it was all going to end in a pit of despair with everyone around me getting hurt.


    By my 12th, I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking anymore, or if I even was. I was on autopilot. My eyes unfocused, my words barely able to fumble their way across my tongue and past my lips. My brain no longer recording the events that transpire.

    Oblivion.

    This was a typical evening for me; give or take a few beers, but the end result would be the same. It continued like that for years, a decade and a half actually. A cycle of going to work sober in the morning, racing home in the evening, and celebrating my arrival with my first drink of the evening. Don’t get me wrong, I took some small “vacations” from drinking here and there along the way. The breaks from were typically initiated by some form of drama or chaos happening within my life, self-induced I’ll admit. I would momentarily be lucid enough to understand that my addiction was not helping, so it needed to go or something in my life would, I was forced out of necessity.

    Unfortunately, the idea never really stuck for long. I’d be able to obtain stretches of sobriety for a few weeks, perhaps a month or two, before succumbing to the inevitable. I’d convince myself that I was cured and therefore I could go back to the way it was. I could go back to being a part of the rest of the world. I’d hide my return to drinking out of shame and justify it to myself in my head for as long as I could before being discovered. Hiding everything I was doing from the public eye. I’d plot my entire guilt story in my head in case anyone ever caught me, then I could “open up” about how it wasn’t the problem and something else was, promise I was going to address it. After a week or two I’d be back in my old patterns and the cycle continued.

    I’ve come a long way in three years though. I feel like I’ve grown up by ten. In three years, I’ve had to “play catch-up” with everything I failed to learn over the past 16 years and I doubt I’m even close.

    I know now that I used drinking as an escape from the seriousness of the world, when in reality it was literally preventing me from learning and absorbing new things (like coping skills). Because I wasn’t present for my life experiences, the meaning was lost and any lessons meant to be learned were not recorded. I got caught up in a fantasy world, a bubble, a place I made up. A world not as it is but as I wanted it to be. I was stuck in my own head but I am not so sure this perspective is exclusive to only addicts.

    So how does one get out of that pit? I can tell you it’s a hell of a long journey and there is no end-game only maintenance. It’s completely worth it though and; cliché as it may be, it starts by asking for help.

    We’ve all heard it a million times. “It’s ok to ask for help.” We’ve also heard the same response a million times, “I have a hard time doing that.” That’s where the conversation ends.

    Now, as you read this you are probably nodding your head; even if only internally. This, or situations just like it, are common. People do not know how to proceed to “the next step.”

    Let me explain some of my current perspectives. I want to try and help.

    Are you the kind of person who would drop everything to help a close friend or family member in a time of need? Do you love the feeling of being useful, being asked to help a friend with a really personal problem? Do you want to be there for your friends and family, to support and love them? Have you been in a situation where someone really relied on you and you were able to come through for them in those intimate moments or an emergency?

    If you answered “yes” to any of those questions then ask yourself this… Why are you stopping people in your life from getting that feeling of fulfillment?

    Everyone (or most people anyway) are waiting for any excuse to be useful to those they love or someone else. They are literally waiting on baited breath and want to jump on any opportunity to have purpose and impact in the lives of those around us. It makes us feel good to be needed, it’s rewarding to our egos and self-esteem, plus we get to feel like we made a difference in someone’s life.

    Even strangers, especially those volunteering or working in support groups or call centers, do it because they want to make a meaningful impact on someone or something in this world. Give them the opportunity.

    But what about the feelings of being judged?

    People who judge are one of two things. They are either unable to fully understand the situation because they lack the appropriate experience in their lives to draw from (congratulations you are their first) or they are unable to because of their own emotional status. It’s not their fault and it has nothing to do with you. It does mean however that you may have to ask for help from someone else. No need to put all of your eggs in one basket.

    Again, this is a great place for helplines, non-profit organizations, or step programs to stand in. If you don’t have people to turn to or feel judged, these places are full of people just waiting to be given the opportunity to be useful.

    It all starts with one action, one conversation, one step in the right direction. Sometimes it’s a matter of simply stopping, sitting still, and ending the cycle. Staying where you are, even for a day, is better than sliding backwards. It’s progress.

    One thing I do know is that solitude and isolation are two completely different things. I used to believe that my isolation was a good thing, being away from the public kept me sane because people were my problem, I was protecting myself and it was reactive to the world around me. Now I know that people were my solution all along, my thinking was the problem. Solitude is much more deeply planned as a way to compliment my thinking.

    I was once stuck in a world where I believed everyone around me was drinking and that they were healthier than me, they were the normal ones. I was stuck in a world where I was the only one suffering from anything. I was so wrong; the world is far more beautifully complicated and diverse. In suffering we are united, it’s one thing we all have in common. It’s a feeling we all understand in our own, very personal, way. We will all suffer at some point in our lives, it’s inevitable.

    So why pretend like we don’t? On the most primitive of levels the answer is easy. Embarrassment and low self-esteem.

    I’ve taken at least half a dozen first aid courses in my life. Most jobs I’ve had have required me to have first aid and I have had to use it on occasion. I will always remember what one of my CPR instructors said at the front of the class, right before we began to learn the Heimlich maneuver.

    She asked, “what is the first thing someone does when they realize that they are choking?” to a doe-eyed classroom, half full of people who would rather not be there. After a moment of silence, she provided the answer, “they leave to get away from people and retreat to the bathroom or another secluded place as to not cause a scene.”

    My eyes widened with complete and utter realization in that moment. It is our human instinct to retreat to a place where we are away from help and will surely die alone. It is our INSTINCT to do the opposite of what we should do to keep ourselves alive. What we should be doing is making the universal choking symbol at the first sign of trouble and letting those around us know of the imminent emergency, even if it ends up being a false alarm.

    That is something that truly resonates with me after all of these years and I now know how to look for the signs of someone who is “choking” because I’ve experienced it from both perspectives. I’ve both died and been saved in my own way.

    I believe we are all lost in our own minds and experiences. It’s nearly impossible to believe or perceive another person’s perspective. We do not know their stories, but we can at least understand that we all suffer.

    So, what signs do we look for to know that someone is suffering? How do we help another person who may be stuck? How can we tell if someone is choking? Well, here is another analogy for you.

    Imagine you are walking down a path in a peaceful forest, birds are chirping, the breeze is gently flowing. As you walk, you happen across a dog in the path. You approach the dog gently, smile as you lean in to pet it. It bares its teeth, snarling and growling, it lashes at your outstretched hand. Taken back, you stand upright and naturally retreat your hand away from the open jaws of the animal. What are you feeling in this moment? Likely shocked, hurt, confused, maybe even a little angry at the animal.

    Why would it do such a thing when you were only trying to be kind?

    As you step back your field of view expands and something catches your eye. A hunter’s trap. The dog’s hind leg is stuck in painful trap and it appears to have been this way for quite some time. The dog is hungry, angry, lonely, tired, and; above all, scared.

    Does your opinion of the dog’s reaction change?

    My friends, we have all been this dog at some point in our lives. If we haven’t been, we will be one day. We have also all been the person extending their hand. Now is the time to come to a greater understanding of each other’s situation. We can remove the traps and continue our walk together. We can heal from our wounds.

    I wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t asked for help from someone in my life who I believed knew better than me. I wouldn’t be writing this right now, you wouldn’t be reading it, if I hadn’t accepted their advice and guidance and believed that they had my best interests in mind. My son wouldn’t exist or if he did, I wouldn’t know him. People in my life noticed my bared teeth and snarling, they took a step back and noticed the trap on my leg and offered to help. Most importantly, I accepted their help and listened to them.

    I’m thankful to say it has worked until now and continues to work today. I hope to make the people who have helped me proud, so that their hard work and effort is paid in full by my presence. I hope to work each day to make myself as healthy as I can be to put myself in a better position for the future. I hope for the opportunity to be able to help others. I hope to be able to take all of my experiences, even the ones I am not proud of, especially the ones that hurt someone else and make them count towards something meaningful to someone else.

    Perhaps the true secret is that we were never sane to begin with.

    If you enjoyed this blog entry, please let me know. I love hearing feedback. If there is something you’d like to hear more about or a topic you’d like me to write about send me an email. Let’s have a conversation.

    Thank you to everyone for their continued support. To my wife, my daughter, my family, and my friends I could never have done any of this without you. Keep fighting the good fight and I’ll keep trying to do better or at the very least do good.

    Thank you to the person that answered my call for help.

    To quote the famous Canadian, Red Green, “Keep your stick on the ice, we’re all in this together.”

  • 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.