2026 New Year, Old Life Lessons: My Story

    “Don’t forget where you came from.” We’ve all heard this line echoed somewhere in books, movies, or out of the well-intentioned mouths of old friends.  Yet this past year as I came to an intersection in life at forty-five, I realized that in some ways I had done just that.  Have you?  For me, the Universe intervened in these early months of the new year with a few important wake up calls.  I had started playing small, questioning my worth as a newly certified practitioner, wondering what I had to offer others that was truly helpful and unique.  As we look around on social media, every influencer claims to have a remedy for any given problem and then there’s AI to fix and replace everything else. Right?

    Reminder/ life lesson learned #1 We are not promised tomorrow.  As I write this, I have a dear friend going through chemotherapy for breast cancer.  She is not the first of my friends at this age to undergo cancer treatment and it pains me to know that she will very likely not be the last.  Last month, I was blindsided when my own ultrasound revealed two suspicious masses that warranted a diagnostic MRI to rule out malignancy.  It was as if I was just handed a complex mathematical equation that for the life of me, I could not solve.  In recent years I have consistently worked to improve my health. The autoimmune condition that once plagued me and would send me into painful flareups, no longer dictated my life. I am a healthy size and weigh less than I did my senior year in high school. According to my last lab panel, biologically I am 29 years old.  I have had my genes tested, detoxed and reduced my environmental toxin exposure.  I am not recounting this to brag, but to convey that I had not even considered that my imaging could be anything other than clear.  Such hubris.  We all know someone who has lived a clean life, exercised, managed stress and still develops cancer. My life certainly has not always been clean.  In the days waiting for results I recalled the extensive infertility medications I took despite any future cancer risks for the chance to become a mother.  I prayed to God for a baby and would have made a deal with the devil to make it happen.  Maybe now that my four miracle babies are a bit older, that higher power was coming to collect? Thankfully, the MRI ruled out any need for concern.  My life was not in jeopardy, and I would not need to spend the months ahead fighting for it. But a question lingered in my mind.  As Mel Robbins shared in The Let Them Theory from the poet Mary Oliver, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?”

    Reminder / life lesson #2 Let helping others in need become your need.  Recently I accepted a position at a busy surgical center only to recognize that one of the pain management doctors there had once treated me.  He is a skilled surgeon with an excellent bedside manner, but how fortunate am I that I no longer require his interventions? For years I suffered with bouts of debilitating pain. It happened one day after teaching.  One afternoon. One action by an unlicensed, reckless driver that altered my life forever but mercifully did not end it.  Now as my colleague and I processed charts from the basement for data entry it was not lost on me that my own file had been in one of these boxes detailing my occipital nerve blocks, SI and trigger point injections.  I watched various patients enter our office.  Some hunched over, truly struggling to walk or write and very agitated.  I understood.  Unrelenting pain changes you.  It robs you of your sleep, your joy, your quality of life. 

    Even now I am hesitant to remember that time and am reluctant to discuss it. For me it was shamefully embarrassing.  I was in my thirties and yet my body felt ancient.  Reminiscent of the elderly who claimed, “A storm’s coming. I can feel it in my bones.”  Like clockwork 36-48 hours before a hard rain or heavy snowfall, my body would sense the impending atmospheric shift and respond with full body musculoskeletal pain.  In my family we would joke that my forecasts were more accurate than the local meteorologist’s report, but there was nothing funny about the pain I felt.  I could not teach.  For years I had taught Spanish, but suddenly I found myself grappling to find words midsentence in English.  At times I could barely function.  I would have to cancel plans because it hurt to move.  I hated having to explain why and did not want to make up an excuse so eventually I just stopped making many plans altogether. 

    As a mom to a toddler and triplet babies at the time of my accident I could not afford to be out of commission. I was desperate to speed up the recovery process if possible. In addition to physical therapy, I sought chiropractic care, acupuncture and myofascial release.  All would offer a little reprieve from pain so that I could function and care for my children, but it did not last.  Later that school year in 2016 I was diagnosed with Whiplash Associated Disorder and placed on temporary total disability with no reliable timeframe for improvement.  Despite my appointments and exercises my pain persisted and new symptoms emerged.  I experienced widespread pain, crippling fatigue, daily cervical tension headaches at the base of my skull that would grow in intensity as the day wore on.  I was sensitive to touch, bright lights and loud noises, which is a challenge in a house with four spirited young children.  I developed tender knots in various places at which point I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and promptly informed for which there is no cure.  Pain relievers, antidepressants, and anti-seizure medications are traditionally prescribed. Targeted injections offer relief for some. So, I tried the medications and underwent rounds of painful injections. Still, it fell short.  Desperate to regain my health, I explored alternative options- trying salt tanks, massage therapy, reiki, essential oils, gentle yoga, CBD creams, medical marijuana as an alternative to pain medication and ketamine therapy.  When I could read I voraciously researched medical breakthroughs, searching in vain for something to help.  In this way I used newly acquired knowledge combined with trial-and-error experiential learning to ultimately heal. 

    “Wait. What do you mean you used to have fibromyalgia?”  I was recently asked by an astonished friend.  I met her a couple years ago and she has never known me to cancel golf, paddle tennis or social plans due to pain.  She knows I am now a certified holistic nutritionist, and we share clean eats that are kid approved, discuss managing hormone fluctuations and ways to attain better sleep.  She knows too that I have worked in a functional medicine office, learning a great deal about exploring root causes behind many disorders.  She did not know that I was drawn to that position as they have providers who treat my son’s pediatric autoimmune condition known as PANDAS or that I too struggled with an autoimmune condition.  She did not know because I was never brave enough to share that with her.  I worried about stigma and judgement and wanted the focus to be on others.  But I think now perhaps in not openly sharing I have done a disservice. 

    So where did I come from?  Fifteen years ago, when I was struggling with PCOS infertility, learning that the last of our embryos did not survive, painting a nursery in vain through tears, I needed to hear stories that defied the odds.  Thankfully, a few women across the globe took the time to share theirs.  Ten years ago, when I mourned the loss of a career and a disability diagnosis fearing an uncertain future, I sought out inspiring recovery stories.  Five years ago, when I had tried everything in my mom bag of tricks and still my son struggled to swallow certain foods.  He could not make it through the night without terrors, get through the school day or participate in sports without urgent, painful bathroom trips that ultimately landed us in the pediatric emergency department. I held his hand through screams, offered reassurance and vowed to keep searching for answers looking for success stories of children waging a similar battle.

    Today, I share my own story—not because it is perfect, but because it is proof that recovery is possible at times even when you may have been told there is no cure. We often spend our lives waiting for a "clear" report or a return to who we used to be, but I’ve learned that healing isn’t about going back, it’s about moving forward with new tools. My "need" now is to be the helping hand for someone else. If you are currently navigating a "storm", please know that your story does not have to end with a diagnosis. I am here to help you explore the root causes of your symptoms and find your own path to vitality. You don’t have to search for answers alone; let’s look for them together. I invite you to reach out to me and know that I would be honored to support your healing journey.