Living to the Fullest: Can a Kid with Chronic Illness Do it?

Note from Adrian: This is a guest post from Emily Couch. I love hearing Emily's perspective from life, because I can truly relate, as you'll see. 

Emily is a senior theatre major at the University of Alabama. She plans on pursuing a Master's degree in theatre education to use in the urban ministry setting. She has served as a missionary in Rock Hill, SC; Acuña, Mexico; Memphis, TN; Gulf Shores, AL; and Astoria, NY. She is an ENFP personality type who enjoys making every day a memorable one.

You can follow her on Twitter and track her adventures on her personal blog. 

(Want to write a guest post for Life Before the Bucket?) 

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When I graduated from high school I had all these big plans for my life, plans detailing where I was going, what I would be doing, who I would be doing it with…I thought my plans were solid. I had worked for years in school to build a solid GPA, had interned at our local hospital to gain valuable medical experience, and had secured scholarships to several universities throughout the country. I had a strong network of family and friends pushing me to be the best I could be, constantly encouraging me that I could do whatever I set my mind to do.

I intended on graduating from college in four years, getting into a top-notch medical school, becoming a trauma surgeon, being a wife and mom, living in the South…I intended on making my dreams a reality. I lived with every intention of securing the American Dream in all of its glory.

I didn’t intend on a wake-up call from God. I didn’t intend to be shaken to my very core and made to question all the things I had been told I could do. I didn’t intend on giving up.

When I was 19 I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder called Hashimoto’s thyroiditis. [My body attacks my thyroid gland, the main metabolic center and controller of hormones.] The doctors said that it could be regulated with medication, but I was told that it would be a life filled with regular doctor visits, hormone checks, and daily medication. I wasn’t phased. It wasn’t like this was a death sentence – it was a disease, something that could be treated and dealt with. As a future doctor I had no worries. I would take my medicine and be fine.

At least that was the plan.

But things don’t always go according to plan.

My body began shutting down, and it quickly became apparent to my team of doctors that there was more going on than had originally been perceived. I was sent to the Mayo Clinic [in my mind, the place they sent people with no hope] to try and figure out what was going on…to try and figure out how to save my life. I was there for two weeks, and over the course of those two weeks I went through a battery of tests, checking for cancers and diseases with names that tangled my tongue.

We finally got an answer – I am an extremely sick kid. The thing about autoimmunity is that it tends to compound, meaning if you have one disorder there is a good chance you’ll get another. As for me, here’s my list [yes, list] of disorders that I deal with:

1. Hashimoto’s thyroiditis

2. Type II diabetes

3. Celiac disease

4. Vitamin D deficiency

5. Major depressive disorder and anxiety

6. SLE [that’s lupus]

7. PFO [that’s a hole in my heart, but it’s been fixed]

8. Stroke victim [caused by the hole in my heart]

9. Cluster migraines

It’s a little intimidating, yes? But I didn’t write this to list off my problems – I wrote this to pose a question: Can a person living with chronic illness truly live life to the fullest?

The answer, put simply, is yes.

I wrote earlier that I didn’t intend on giving up. When I wrote that, you maybe thought I meant I laid down and wallowed in self-pity. Nope. I did get angry with God, but he was teaching me…and I learned. I became angry with God because I thought he was punishing me for something. I gave my life to Christ when I was 18, right after graduating from high school, and I had been living for Him, for His glory.

When I got sick, I found it completely unfair that a loving God could see fit to let me go through something like that. But here’s the thing: he never promised it would be easy. In fact, Jesus promised that we would face adversity, face persecution, face suffering – but he promised that we wouldn’t ever have to go through what we could not bear [1 Corinthians 10:13].

I was told that the stress of going the pre-med route would kill me. I was told that I needed to pick a different direction for my life. I had no Plan B for my life – it was med school or nothing, so hearing those words was incredibly intimidating. I was a 21-year-old college junior who now had literally no direction…but I did have faith.

I took the advice of family, friends, and doctors, and I started doing what I love – theatre. I switched my major and immediately God began opening doors and paving roads. I had no idea what the future held, but I knew one thing for certain – God was guiding my steps, and his plan for my life was better than my own.

Last summer I had the incredible opportunity to serve as a missionary to Gulf Shores, AL. While there, God answered my major question: “What am I supposed to do with my life?” We were holding an afternoon day camp in an inner-city location, and I felt a strong attraction to the middle and high school aged kids. These were kids who were extremely talented and passionate about the things they loved, but who were constantly being told by their families and by society that they would never amount to anything. The arts was a way that God allowed me to connect with these kids – they taught me to rap and step, I shared the Gospel with them through the things they loved.

If you had told me when I graduated from high school that I would end up being a theatre major, attending seminary, moving to New York, and being an inner-city arts minister, I would have laughed at you. But plans change.

I have come to see that all these things I have gone through, all the medical scares and hospital stays and plan changes, they have all happened to show how big God is. When I graduated from high school I was so focused on my plans…I never considered what His plans were. My illness served in a way to make slow down, no, to stop and to ask, “Is this really what life is about?” You have to figure out what living truly is. 

I can promise you that if you are living for you, for yourself, and your goals and your plans, your life will feel incomplete. You will never truly experience life to the fullest. It is only when you completely let go and let God come in and take over that you will discover what living to the fullest means. This life, it’s not about us. It’s about Christ, about living in a manner that brings glory to Him, and about proclaiming His love story to the nations. The victory of the cross drives us, and the power of the Holy Spirit sustains us. Embracing that victory and power, dying to yourself and living in Christ – that is what living life to the fullest is all about. 

I don’t do anything of my own power. I do all things through Christ, for He is the one who strengthens me. I am nothing without him, my life has no meaning apart from him. My diseases do not define me – my relationship with Christ does. My life is a prime example of 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, which states that His power is made perfect through weakness. The whole world can see that I am sick; the whole world can also see that God is at work, and he is using a Southern girl with a chronic illness to go forth and share His love story.

Do not let illness or limitation define you. Let the love of Christ define you, and see that living life to the fullest means realizing it is not at all about you but that it is all about him.

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Questions: What struggles often hold you back from living to the fullest? When have your plans drastically changed? How is the direction of your life different than it was a few years ago?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way!

Win of the Week

Not-so-surprising announcement: We're still looking for guest post submissions! Just check out this post on Living to the Fullest and then send me an e-mail with your guest post idea!

Whew. It's been one of those weeks.

It feels like Monday through Thursday sucker-punched me in the gut.

But it's Friday, so I'm almost done with the fight. And so are you. Congratulations, my friends.

Here, we champion our weeks, no matter how rough they were. We look on the bright side, even if it doesn't seem bright at all.

We share together, as friends, each Win of the Week that we have had.

This week, like I said, has been a doozy. I reached an entirely new level of tired, but thankfully, my medicine finally came in. It tastes like soap (as always) and takes entirely to long to use (20+ minutes twice a day), but it's more than worthwhile.

Soon enough, I'll have energy again, and the monster that is our dishes will be slain.

So that, my friends, is my Win of the Week.

Also, Bonus Win: printing my 45 page paper (a week after I finished it). It was more stressful than you'd think it would be...

So what about you? What was your Win of the Week? Share with us in the comments section of this post!

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!  

Seat-Between Syndrome

I'm stoked to start up our Life to the Fullest guest post series this week! If you haven't already, consider submitting a post!

As a Christian, I notice a lot of odd phenomenon among our sub-culture of America.

For instance...

We "like" some pretty terrible music. Those who willingly participate in the  K-LOVE challenge are my primary witnesses to this fact.

We make things more complicated than they have to be. Oh, what's that, you say? Jesus had "disciples?" Why don't we just call them "students," 'cause, ya know, we speak English, not Bible.

We get caught up in the petty and often overlook the egregious errors of our ways. The horror that was/is the overlooked abuse of Jessica Ahlquist is enough to get us all to shake our heads in shame.

Most of these oddities are chronicled in the writings of Jon Acuff (over at Stuff Christians Like), but every once in a while, something slips through the cracks.

That something has been happening to me and many others for as long as I can remember. It's a condition of Christians that I like to call...

Seat-Beside Syndrome.

SBS, if you're lazy and don't want to type all of that (like me).

SBS has plagued churches across the nation for years. For as long as churches have been packed out, this has been a problem. And the only remedy to it is often an awkward announcement by someone up front that we all need to "scoot to the middle" of our seats.

Don't worry, though. You can easily self-diagnose whether you're at risk for having SBS by noting a couple of things next time you go to church (or any other social setting, for that matter).

Here's an example of the climate in which SBS thrives.

First off, do you find yourself looking for an empty row of seats (or even an empty section) to sit in during a church service? This isn't actually SBS, but is a symptom of a much larger problem.

Secondly, when you are relegated to sitting near other actual people, do you find yourself spreading your stuff so no one sits near you? Again, this is another very serious symptom of SBS.

Finally, when you do sit next to someone, do you experience a slowing of time, as if you may be stuck there forever? Do you experience feelings of dread at the thought of such an occurrence? If so, it is very likely that you may have SBS.

If you find that these three symptoms regularly apply to you, please seek immediate professional assistance. It is very likely that you suffer from SBS.

So what exactly is SBS, you ask? Well, it's simple. Here's how you actually diagnose the disease:

When you scout out your seat during a church service, you find the perfect spot. You approach the row of seats, only to find others sitting near there. So, without thinking twice, you allow your SBS to take over, and approach those people. You choose your chair and take a seat, again, without hesitation.

Now, after you've firmly staked out and claimed your seat of choice, diagnosis is easy. Are you ready for it?

If there are people two seats away from you, who aren't reserving any places around them, and you don't choose a seat next to them, but sit a seat down from them, then you have Seat-Beside Syndrome.

I know, I know. You're a little scared. You aren't sure what to do. Is there a cure? Will you ever be rid of this disease? Don't worry; I've got some answers.

Seat-Beside Syndrome is curable. In fact, it is often a signal of a much larger problem. We haven't been able to diagnose it yet, but research is being done at a breakneck speed to pinpoint the root cause. Here's what we do, know, though:

First of all, you might be scared of people. If this is the case, though, you probably already know it and very rarely go to social events (like church) in the first place. If this applies to you, then I have no words for you, since going to church would be enough of a struggle for you in the first place.

If this doesn't apply to you, then I've got some bad news. You, like myself, might just not like other people. Sure, friends and family are okay - they don't count as "others." But we really just don't care much for the person sitting (sort of) next to us.

It's sad, really. A body that doesn't cooperate or enjoy other parts of itself. Like a hand that refuses to grasp something because the thumb has a certain distaste for the middle finger (hence their separation by the pointer finger). Sounds ludicrous, doesn't it?

If you don't have SBS, then you're probably not sure what to make of this. But if you do, then you're probably saying, "Oh, I've heard this sermon before. Get on with it."

This is more than me preaching at us, though. People, we are messed up like no other. Not only do we shield ourselves from people whose beliefs are different from our own, but we put up defenses to avoid those who we claim to call brothers and sisters. It's embarrassing for those without SBS, to be frank.

You don't even have to get a shot to curse SBS!

So do yourself (and the rest of those people without SBS) a favor. Sit next to someone at church this week. Not near them. Not around them. Next to them. And then, maybe try out this thing that the guy you follow (Jesus, in case you forgot) proposed: loving them. And not in a "I don't have to like them - I only have to love them" kind of way. That doesn't even make sense.

For the sake of all of those around you, stop leaving empty seats between you and others. Take a baby step toward building up your community of faith. Next thing you know, you might actually enjoy sitting by other people. And before you know it, you'll be rid completely of SBS and all of its symptoms.

Unless, of course, you enjoy being sick. But take a word of advice from someone who's been there: if you don't treat a sickness, it only spreads and infects the rest of the body. If you don't take steps to remedy SBS, it is contagious and will affect those around you. It may even morph into a stronger disease that has no cure.

So let's vow to nip this in the bud. We know the disease (SBS), and we have a cure (true love), so let's stop it once and for all.

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Questions: Have you ever thought about SBS before? Do you think it's a problem? Is it something you struggle with? What are some other peculiarities of Christians that you've noticed over time?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading! 

photo credits: Leonardini and emailrober - sxc.hu

The Awkward In-Between

Writer by day. Secret agent by night.

I have this really bad habit, guys.

It isn't biting my fingernails, though I definitely do that. Is it really a "bad" thing, anyway?

Nor is it leaving the toilet seat up after I use the restroom. Because I love my wife like that.

And in case the thought crossed your mind, I don't live a double-life as a secret agent. Well, there was that one time...

No, my bad habit is far beyond any of these ridiculous things. It's not something I'm proud of, either, which I suppose is why I haven't shared it yet. It's one of those things that I keep tucked away in my mind, for nobody else to see. It's like a club that only me, myself, and I have a membership to, and we haven't been accepting new members since... forever.

And at this point, you can probably see that I'm stalling.

So, at the risk of losing every friend I've ever had, I'll spill. But you have to pinky-promise not to judge me too much.

Here it is:

A lot of times, I don't believe my friends when they tell me things.

Okay, so that doesn't sound so awful. But let me give you an example.

Let's say a good friend of mine told me that he hasn't been feeling well. Unless he shows me the thermometer that read his fever, as well as a second one verifying the first, I struggle to empathize. Especially if he's good at hiding it, in which case I usually tend to believe he's trying to get "out" of something.

Now it still may not sound that awful, but it gets worse (in my mind, at least).

You see, I suffer from chronic illness. I sleep with oxygen at night and do breathing treatments and chest physiotherapy every day. But frankly, I don't want my disease to define who I am, so I try my best to hide it. Now, mind you, my rolling backpack does make people wonder why I don't carry a bag like everyone else, but I don't typically draw attention to myself when I don't feel well.

Like this past week or two. I've been so tired. All. The. Time. And I want people to believe me so badly. But they don't seem to have any sympathy, because I'm still going to school and I'm still working on this huge paper we have due in two weeks. By all accounts, I'm normal. And hey, who isn't tired in college?

But I want people to know it's different for me. It's the worst kind of double-standard. I expect people to believe me and to sympathize with me, but I have the hardest time giving people I love the benefit of the doubt.

Somewhere alone the line, I fed into the lie that I matter more than they do. 

And maybe that's the real confession here. 

I know it seems like I have it all together when I write, and that may be true. Writing is a place of solace and serenity for me. I can shed my suckiness and dress myself in a facade of words. And that's nice, for a moment or two. Until I realize that my writing can't heal me from who I am.

But when the words are stripped away, and it's me and you, the truth is, I'm not any better than you are. You and I, we both have our struggles. We both have our successes. We both have our ups, downs, and awkward in-betweens.

And right now, I find myself in that awkward in-between. I don't feel well, but I'm still healthy enough to live somewhat normally (besides being a 22 year old on oxygen). So I ask you to accept me where I am, even if you don't totally understand it. And I pinky-promise you that I'll try to understand when you're there too.

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Questions: Do you have any bad habits? How do they affect your daily life? Can you sympathize with my struggle here? Why do you think we often set double-standards for those we love the most?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

photo credit: mzacha - sxc.hu

I Wish it Was Obvious

This post is part of my weekly Time for Honesty. I do my best to share something that's on my heart that is honest, sincere, and transparent - something that will get you thinking and get you to be honest with yourself.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

I wish you could see how tired I am. How worn out my body is. How I feel well for about 2-3 hours a day.

Sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

I wish you could see that I'm not coughing because I'm nervous. I'm not coughing because I have a cold. I'm coughing because (ironically), it helps me get better.

Sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

I wish you could see when I'm walking next to you to your dorm room how hard it is for me to keep up with you. I don't choose to walk slowly; it's the only way I know to get around.

Sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

I wish you could see that when I miss class, it is because I'm tired. But not because I haven't slept. I'm sick, you see. I'm always sick.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

And then I realize.

God sees me in my pain.

He sees my tiredness. He knows why I cough so much. He understands that it's hard for me to keep up. He gets that sometimes, sleep just isn't enough.

Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish it was obvious.

And then I remember.

To him, it is.

Question: Do you deal with anything that you wish was more obvious to others?

I'd love to hear from you about this (or anything else)! Just drop me a comment or send me an e-mail!

Sick of Being Sick

Hola, friends!

I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to be taking another week-long break, as I did earlier in the summer. The infection in my lungs (the bacteria is called pseudomonas if you want to look it up) went away, but now it's back and kicking my butt.

In the meantime, I'm hoping I'll be able to find time to renovate the good ol' blog - I found a layout that I think I want to implement that is similar to the one that I'm currently using.

Have a good week, and don't miss me too much!

Pain. Lots of Pain.

It feels something like this.

Hey, everyone.

I feel like someone is shoving a knife into my head from about 20 different directions, so I'm foregoing a post today.

BUT...

You can STILL enter to win a FREE book! Just check out this post!

I will hopefully be back in commission tomorrow. Please don't desert me before then!