Such Great Heights

Please join me at my new Blog... Such Great Heights. While I have enjoyed writing here at Averagely Unique, my life has taken a new direction... Come on over and see what it's all about.
Thanks!
Rachel

Galehead... Garfield... And ???? A test of will.

                On a typical Saturday, my alarm goes off at 4am… A hikers rise and shine. Today, I was taking on Garfield (4500ft with spectacular 360 degree views). I was not taking this one on alone though as my usual Saturday hikes go. I was to have company and company beyond my usual Hiking partners (we call ourselves The Fantastic 4). This company was the unknown and the unpredictable.  I was nervous and that set the day into motion. I was also staying up there and would not see home again until Sunday. Packing up the car with my gear and an extra bag to stay overnight at my aunt’s house, I had a feeling… A feeling that something was amiss in the equation. This was going to be a far different hike. I could feel it.

                As I drove off, I was happy. I was doing something that I loved to do more than anything else in the world right now. When I’m hiking, I feel like I’m on top of my game. I feel that I know exactly what I am doing and how to handle a lot of different situations. I’d like to say I have control however, I don’t. Simply put, you cannot control the weather. You can only be prepared for whatever the mountain throws at you. On my back, I am carrying: A parka, rain jacket and pants, a change of clothes, 3 pairs of extra socks, a thicker fleece jacket, an extra set of hat and gloves, towel, first aid kit, emergency blanket, extra batteries, flash light, headlamp, extra cell phone, matches, camera, tripod, spikes for my shoes on the ice, extra batteries, a knife, 6 liters of water (2 bottles and 1 bladder), 2 sandwiches (PB&J), 2 packets of tuna, 9 granola bars, and 2 apples. On my person: techwick hiking shirt (to keep the moisture away), pepper skins long underwear, waterproof pants, Fleece pull over, hat and gloves, gaiters, sturdy and waterproof boots, and the spikes for my shoes. I know that I am well prepared for me and for me alone. I get thrown off when the unknown is in the equation. I feel responsible for my party… I am responsible for my party. Especially if I am more experienced.

                 I arrive at the trailhead around 7:30am. No big deal, I can get my boots and gaiters on and wait for my new hiking partner to show. He had called while I was on the road and we pushed up the start to 8am (the first change).  I walk around a bit to warm up and take a look at things. I get another call that he’s a little lost. So, after some debate, I drive back out to route 3 to meet him and lead him back. I pop out of the car and grab my pack and trekking pole. Come around to meet my hiking partner for the day and suddenly realize that I am way more prepared than he… Jeans, sneakers, and some food stuffed in a pack with a small bottle of water. He did have a hat, gloves, and a warm top layer on. But I worried for him and briefly wondered if it would be rude of me to turn him away for not being prepared. I bit it we walked. Found ourselves at the Gale River trailhead. The one that leads to Galehead (I was going to do that one Sunday). After another debate, we decide to do two summits. Galehead (4024ft) and Garfield (4500ft). I am hoping that we have enough daylight and planning for my headlamp on the hike out. I’m forgetting to post a change of route.  

                Gale river trail starts out with an easy grade. A few water crossing that I watch his sneakers on. The rocks come into play and we begin the ascent. Then the ice becomes thicker and more prominent on the trail. I stop to add my spikes aware that he has none. I think we should turn back but he wants to keep going. He’s in good shape and can probably handle it. I tell myself. We’ll evaluate at the summit. So, we climb. I’m able to just dig in and glide up the ice. He has a tougher time finding footing. Warmth is OK because the sun is still rising. We reach the Galehead hut with no issues and we seem to be enjoying each other’s company. We sit on the porch for a snack and I’m been using the water in the bladder pack all the way up the trail since it has a mouth piece to access it. We suite up again for the .5 to the summit. At the summit, it’s pretty much a treed in no view summit with a snowy cairn marker. However, there is a nice overlook that we take another break at and snap some pictures. If we are going to make Garfield, I know we need to get moving.

                Back down to the Gale river trail, we head for the Garfield ridge trail. At first, it seems to be easy enough however we need to do some climbing in elevation. Then I look ahead and see that it’s all ice. Again, I think we need to turn back. But we keep going. My hiking partner is showing no signs of distress. I am starting to think of my headlamp again. We keep going and run into a few hikers along the way. They were mostly people coming from the summit. A few that were heading to the camp site.  We begin climbing… We need to get up what we called “the waterfall”… A section of rock that has running water and ice. Rather than mess with it, we bushwhack up the side. I’m carrying 30 lbs. on my back and trying to hoist myself up. I know I am digging into my first reserve of energy. We make it and we keep going. Slowly making our way to the summit… The sunset was breathtaking and I forgot all my worries and responsibilities. “This is why I do this”. I almost had tears in my eyes it was so beautiful and I had wanted to do a sunset summit. I picked a good one on accident. The wind was picking up and the snow was whipping around. I had become a little disoriented and took a trail off the summit that I thought was the one we came up. We were back on the Garfield Ridge trail and looking for the Mt. Garfield trail. We never found it.  

                We kept walking and talking and probably missed the turn on the dark. We suddenly found ourselves in unfamiliar trail and we kept going. There is a point of no return where it’s too late to turn back and you just need to see it through. I just needed to see a trail sign. I was not prepared for what I did see… Alpine Zone. Alpine Zones are above 4000ft. We were ascending another peak?!?! The question was which one? The wind was howling and it was black except for my headlamp. We came to the rock face summit and tried to find the trail. What I found was ice…. I felt my legs give out and I slipped about 20ft. I remember thinking that this can’t happen and I rolled on my side and dug in my spikes. I tried again and slipped back. I thought, this really can’t be happening. I rolled and dug in.  I tried a third time and slipped back. I screamed out “NO!” to the mountain as it was not going to win this. Rolled and dug in. then I got on my stomach and crawled. 30lbs of gear and I’m on the side of a very angry north face peak. I reach out my hand and focus on it. I watch my hand grab at some snow and I hoist myself and all my gear to the clear spot I had been trying to get to. I stand and find the trail (after a short debate about where it actually is). We go over the right side of the summit (not the actual summit) and down… A TRAIL SIGN!

                Come to find out, we were on our way to Mt. Lafayette… In Franconia Notch. Not where I wanted to be. However, further reading revealed that Route 3 was 4 miles down. 4 miles to be off the mountain. 4 miles to be safe. And we were truly and finally descending as we were going down consistently. We began walking and talking for what seemed like forever. Then the snow began to be less and less on the ground. Then it was just leaves and I needed to take my spikes and gloves off. I had no idea of injury as I was now into my last reserves of energy. I was focused on getting out to the road. I was worried about my hiking partner whose feet I was pretty sure were ice blocks. I was worried about my mother who was waiting at my aunts. I had hoped that she would just think we went out to dinner and I was also hoping that she called the police or the rangers as I had always told her. See, there is a reason I post my route on Facebook (and should amend it when it changes). If I am overdue in my return post, people know to call the proper authorities. And that is what my mother had done.

                We had made it out to Route 3 at the Skookumchuck trailhead after hiking what we estimated to be 15miles with about 5 miles to get to our cars. And we’re still walking. He wants to hitchhike and I’m not too keen on that idea. We see headlights coming up behind us and it’s the police who promptly pull over. We walk up and the officer asks if we are the lost hikers. No, not really lost we say. Just overdue. He tells us that they are looking for two groups and asks my name. I’m confirmed and we are allowed into the SUV. Gear and all we are driven back to our cars with the heat on. I’m sure that I’ve done something incredible today. We stand outside talking with the officer and as I am taking my gear from his SUV, he asks if I was prepared for this. I say that I had plenty of safety equipment and spikes for me but I don’t want to do this again. We shook hands and he was off to help with the other group that was still missing. I loaded my gear in the car and thanked my hiking partner for sticking it out. We part as it was really getting late and I had an hour to travel to my aunt’s house.   

                While driving that night, after that ordeal, I realized that 23 peaks give me a certain level of expertise and responsibility. While my hiking partner was honored and humbled for the experience of hiking with me, I felt foolish and responsible. We should have turned back at so many different points. He didn’t know his own limits and I should have listened to my instinct. As he continued to go on and on about how great the adventure was (as we were heading down the Skookumchuck), I became worried that he did not see the danger for the adrenaline that was generated. We could have been in deeper trouble. It was a reckless and irresponsible hike. Yet I knew that this hike would come. And I know that it will come again. The mountains always have the final word. It’s up to you to keep your head and let the mountain work with you. Know what your limits are and look out for the less experienced. As I sit here, I have bruises on 75% of both my legs, my shoulders are stiff and sore, my left shoulder is a little worse because I hit it pretty hard those thee falls. I have abrasions on my back form my pack rubbing the skin away but, I am proud of myself for getting through it and it’s something I don’t want to do again for a while. I’m an experienced hiker (even the police agree) but it doesn’t mean that every hike has to be or will be this way. Safety plans are used ofr a reason... I now know that mine works. Hike safe... Not stupid.

                My unofficial 3^rd peak… North peak of Lafayette… 5040ft…. Not on the list of the NH48.

  

6288 and then some.... Why Do I Do This?

All reports were saying that the weather on Mount Washington for Sunday (9/18/11) would be perfect. My planning for this trip was originally going to only include Mounts Monroe and Eisenhower. I was not even considering Washington. In my mind, the “big mountain” was untouchable until I got a few more peaks under my belt. And then I put it all together… friends had said they hit it as their second peak on the 48 list because the weather was perfect and like a friend of mine said, you’re going to be up there anyway… Might as well, right? Riiiigghhht. And then I thought about it. What’s stopping me from doing this? Well, there’s… Me. I’m stopping myself. I’m going to be up there anyway since it’s the same trail to get to the Appalachian Trail (Crawford Path) anyway. So, why not go right up the path to Washington instead of left to Monroe? I thought (for about a minute) and agreed to check the forecast and decide. The forecast was PERFECT for 6288ft up. It was going to be cold, clear, and low wind. I’m going!

I have to say that 4am was rough for that Sunday. I was so concentrated on the fact that I was going to complete Washington (potentially) that I forgot a few things. My vitamins that I take in the morning for one. Packing my second dose that I take at night for two. My trekking pole for three. And the most important thing, my memory card for the camera for four. Ugh! Most were unimportant and could wait or be done without. The memory card was a blow and I didn’t realize it until I got to the trailhead. After a quick plan rethink, I am on my way using my cellphones to take pictures. Knowing that the most important thing was to have enough battery left in one should something happen.

The trail started out easy enough. It was extremely muddy due to recent rains but it was nothing that was going to make me turn around. Quickly after a downhill slope, I am greeted with my first water crossing. A small one that is flowing fast. My concern is getting the feet wet since if I slip, and my foot gets submerged, I have no spare hikers. Socks yes but not boots. I make it across. Following the Ammonoosuc River to the gem pool was easy enough. Some up and down hill as well as a few narrow passes and the usual roots and rocks. Again, not bad and the river crossings are getting easy. After the gem pool, I am confronted with my first stretch of vertical trail. Two miles before The Lake of the Clouds Hut, the trail is now straight up and able to be walked (I wish at this point I had my pole). It’s a tough cardio work out with many stops along the way. During one of these stops, I talk with an older couple and their Schnauzer pup. Turns out they live in a town I use to live in ages ago and we agree to meet up at the Lake of the clouds hut at some point… Hopefully. I begin to get conservative with the water and pop a gluten free granola bar. I come to a level section of trail and breathe easy. As the trail opens, I am greeted with my first section of rock face. Not vertical but gently sloping. I follow it up about 50 or so feet to a water crossing. Again, the water is not a slow flowing water way. It’s moving fast and a little higher in volume than I want. I find the way and make it across to the level trail. After a set of switchbacks and another water crossing, I come to a more vertical and smooth rock face for about another 50 feet. This is the type of trail you put your whole self into and rely on the angle of your boots and the grip of your hands to propel yourself to the next hold until you come to a ledge of sorts or a place you can stand more upright. Keep in mind that it’s getting colder as I go up. Even with the heat I am generating. At this point, I am in the Alpine zone and I see my first glimpse of rime ice.    

I am now beyond the vertical scrambles and able to walk. I reach the Lake of the clouds hut and look to the summit. Between the Lake of the clouds and Mount Washington’s summit, is a field of stone which looks amazingly like another world or perhaps the surface of the moon. The Appalachian Trail is marked out by cairn. One would think that walking on these rocks would be a little like cobble stone and in some areas, it is. However, the stones are loose and laying on top of one another. You’re looking at a broken ankle if you step wrong. But, you’ve made it this far so, keep going for the next half mile. It feels like a death march in some of the flatter terrain. You start ascending again and you are greeted with rime ice and what I like to call craggy stones to the summit post. During this section, I needed to walk about 10 feet and stop for a brief moment in about 4 successive sets both to get my breathe and bearings as well as my balance. Finally, in about 5 and half hours I summited Mount Washington…. Solo… 6288ft from base to summit!

At the summit post, I was greeted by the young couple from Israel that I had met up with at the gem pool. They congratulated me and I them. When I saw them at the base, I was worried for their lack of gear however; they were bundled up and happy. They snapped a few pictures for me and I returned the favor. We parted satisfied with our respective hikes. I found myself tearing up at the thought of 6288… The day… The steps it took to get there… The support that friends, family, and complete strangers alike have shown me on this and other climbs.  I collect my thoughts and head back down the trail the same way I came up. At the Lake of the clouds hut, I run into the older couple with the schnauzer. “Jaffrey?” They said. “Are you heading up to Monroe now?” Two things; they started a trend as everyone started calling me Jaffrey who was passing by and yes, I still had another mountain to climb.

Monroe was about 45 minutes to summit from The Lake of the clouds hut. It was a lot easier than Washington. Dirt path to a point to rock stairs to ledge to the summit. I hoisted myself up and stood next to guy from Boston and his friend from Virginia. He snapped me on number 5 gratefully. We chatted and it turns out there were heading towards Eisenhower and completing the presidential range. Again hiking west to east and having it a little easier except that they’d been camping for the past two days (Weather was cold Saturday). We parted due to decreasing day light. I began my decent.

Much the way I came up, I went back down. It always amazes me how much quicker decent goes. Nearly vertical climbs and scrambles become nothing more than slides. The uneven rock stairs become easier to manage.  Switchback becomes something of a game to propel you down as you twist and turn through the trails. And then the next thing you know, you are back at the car with a head full of amazing memories…

Yeah, there’s a reason I get up at 4am on a weekend… And this is it.

Sometimes You Need to Play in the Clouds....

Sometimes, life is not about what you do day in and day out… Sometimes life is what you strive to do and what you want to accomplish. Those long term goals that you want to see a little closer than a spot on the horizon. So, this summer, I set out to not wait around for anyone and to do the things that I wanted to do… To do those things on my own terms and have a little fun. Somewhere along the way, I think I found myself. All I needed was a mountain top to do it.

Even before I got sick last year, I had… Issues. I know, who doesn’t have issues really? These days we are all carrying some kind of baggage. And the first story I have to tell you is kind of how I got here to today… Back in 2007, I had set out to climb Mount Monadnock with someone. Thinking that it would be a piece of cake, we set out with some water and that was about it. We hiked and we talked and walked and we started to climb… I felt like I was hanging onto the side of the mountain at one point. I lost my grip and I slipped down some slick granite. I froze. You’d think that anyone would be supportive and try and talk me up… Nope. He talked me into a blind panic instead. I sent him on and cursed myself as I waited… and waited… On the side of that mountain until he came back and we could go back down together. I was defeated…. I think he felt just fine. Most know that he lasted until 2009. But what he did, lasted well…. Until recently.

You see recently, I finally figured out how to live. I figured out how to live with a disease and still be extremely active. I figured out how to live and get my needs met. I figured out how to live and not have to wait for anyone to tell me it was OK to do something. I figured out how to live in the light instead of someone else’s shadow. Surprised that it took me this long to figure it out? Probably not if you know me. It’s been one hell of a ride and I’m still going. Still learning. All the while, I am living. At 3165ft up, today I finally completed the last long standing obstacle. I’ll get back to today soon…

It all really started earlier this summer I started hiking around state parks… Pretty much flat surfaces and long trails. Not bad for a day and I was able to work through some pretty intense thoughts I had going on. OK, I may or may not have been on the verge of a emotional crisis at the beginning of the summer and I needed an outlet. I found hiking. Then one day, I climbed something called Little Monadnock… Complete with views of the very mountain that I had not completed.  It was mocking me essentially from a far. I vowed to get back there and do it and all the while I continued to have these conversations with myself. Worked out a plan and on Little Monadnock, I decided that life was too short to wait for all these things I had been promised and if anything I needed to get moving and do things on my own. Then I also realized how bored I had become on flat surfaces… So, I started hiking small mountains. The small ones lasted all of well, Pack Monadnock in Miller State Park.

I jumped to Mount Cardigan at 3,119 ft. It was a nice walk that coincided with an inspirational talk by two ladies in their 50’s that had hiked all the 4000footers in New England. I was hooked sitting up there on the cardigan summit with the past and present colliding. The following weekend, I jumped again and did two peaks in one day and in the White Mountains. Mount Crawford 3129ft and Stairs Mountain 3463ft. My first trip into the Whites and I was in love… With mountain hiking. I had been promised a hike up Mount Chocorua at 3490ft. the unfortunate thing was the promise was backed out of… I however did it anyway… Solo like the rest. This one was more hand of hand climbing at the summit. I was not sure at first if I was capable. It turns out… I am. I sat on the summit eating my PB&J (A regular ritual) with the grin of a small child up to no good on the playground… My new Playground was officially the White Mountains. And it was on that mountain with that broken promise that I decided to begin my quest officially for the 4000footers in New Hampshire. I was able to mark off Mount Moosilauke this past Saturday… 4802ft. And still one mountain had to be completed before I got too far in.

Today was the day… Monadnock was in my sights. In spite of thunderstorms in the area and in spite of all those pit falls and illnesses I had before me, I set out. I took a different and more challenging trail than the one that stalled me last time. And I was alone so, it’s not like I had anyone to answer to but me. The summit would be mine. Even as I was climbing, it was not that easy. The trail was wet and slick and I had taken the cliff trail along ridges and cliffs on the side of the mountain. The fog was think and as I got to the top, I began to wonder. Then I happened upon some fellow hikers. We shared stories and I got my picture taken at the first minor summit (bald rock). They were proud that I was doing this today. And we all set out on the trail. I lingered so that I could just be at my own pace. The four of them made it to the summit well before me. I had to go through some pretty steep hand over hand climbing and hoisted myself to the summit. The wind was howling and the view was not visible. But I was at the summit. I happened to run into one of my earlier fellow hikers. We swapped a few more stories about the mountain and then he told me… “We’ve all saved you an amazing seat at the summit in honor of your climb”. It was a seat right at the very tip of the summit. A few complete strangers cared enough to cheer me on to complete this leg on my journey. Grinning ear to ear, I settled in to eat my sandwich and laugh with a few good people. Everest conquered. Now bring on the rest of the 4000footers and above. Life has come back to me. My eyes are brighter, my smile is wider. And it’s not because of anyone but me. It doesn’t matter if I am sick when I am on the summit. It doesn’t even matter if a promise gets broken. I’m as close as I am going to get to the clouds and sometimes those clouds come down to touch me.

A Departure... A New Beginning

            There’s a journey that starts for each of us usually at birth. We only seem to become aware of the different paths when we are sometimes in crisis. Occasionally, we become aware of our journey when inspiration strikes and you literally see all the pieces begin to fall into place. It seems that I have come into just such a time in my life. It’s never been about the destination or the amount of “stuff” I can accumulate. It’s never been about the people who have come and gone in my life. Although they have played a large part in this journey and recently I credit several awakenings to those that have come and gone. It has always been about me… Finding who I am. And what I have embarked on is truly amazing and scary and freeing. At almost thirty nine, I am finally figuring out who I am and what I am capable of. My story is just now being written.

So, today I began to peel away the layers to find the beginning of this amazing leg of my life. At first I thought it was recently when one particular water bearer pushed me to the very edge of my comfort zone and over with regard to what I am capable of in my life. That was not the case however, it certainly was part of the bigger picture. Then I thought that it was the new career path that I began walking on. Certainly part of it all again but not the beginning. Of course, there was the revelation of my early start down the path of Thyroid disease. While I wish I had not turned down this path so early, I have. And again, this is not the beginning either. Nor was it striking out on my own after eight years of being a duo. It sounds funny but I believe that the very catalyst of this particular leg of my journey began with a Yankee Swap gift at Christmas time 2008 and thus contains all those other moments that I spoke of. That gift was a guide to hiking trails and mountains in New Hampshire. Yes, I fought the Yankee Swap process to keep this book. I had a feeling that it would somehow play a part in my future journey.  And now, here it is…. I’ve only just begun and yet I am already too far in to turn back.

And now, today, I realized that receiving that book back in 2008 and thinking to myself that "I’ll be able to do a lot of hiking through this" and how much I’ve wanted to hike around New Hampshire means a whole lot more to me. Given the experiences that have lead up to this very realization. It’s been a journey fraught with ups and downs of magnificent proportion. Learning how to live again singular as opposed to a duo was hard enough. Learning how to manage a household on my own and then manage it with a disease that has the potential to wipe out my very energy stores that keep me going was another obstacle to climb over. I would get down. Seriously down and… Almost give up... Everything. But something would pick me up. Something kept me going. Something said to me, "Find another way. Make a change. You can do this". It wasn’t anything but my own inner voice. Bringing all this under control was difficult for me at best. Reinventing the self is never easy and I am still in process. Last year, it seemed I was confined to the house and the couch. Or I was just sticking around the local area as I began getting use to this new body I was now living in as I began bringing this disease under control. Summer came and went without as much as a walk in the woods. Winter set in and I began my hibernation. As the sun came back out, I told myself that I would not have another summer like last summer (the summer that wasn't). It was time. And I was going to do this with or without someone by my side. While many have promised to join me, that trail partner has yet to come. Still, something had awakened within me and I could not let it rest. Yes, it was time for me to figure out who I was.

As the summer approached, I began to really put all the pieces of this leg of the journey together. There are actually two areas that I am most drawn to; The Ocean and the Mountains. This I have always known but kept it silent at times. Talk about two extremes… A brief word on the beloved ocean, I am planning on learning to surf in the next summer season while immersing myself in the world during the off season.  I have always wanted to do this and when this desire was reawakened recently, I have never let it rest since then. I can remember distinctly sitting on my beach at home  growing up and knowing that I would surf someday. Next summer, for sure.

And then then there is the hiking. It all began with a thought to hike some state parks to clear my head and get in touch with myself. Of course this was brought on by some significant events (mini explosions) in my life that once again caused me to reevaluate exactly who I was, where I came from, where I was going, and what I was doing. Not that I was rewriting my story. More like my story was just coming to light… Finally. During these hikes, I seemed to talk myself through some pretty amazing things and continue to realize who I am and what I am capable of. I have this ongoing conversation with something greater than myself that seems to now move me on to this journey of self-discovery. It has taken me a lot of darkness to get to the light. To continue to overcome obstacle after heart ache after obstacle, I am well on my way to something pretty amazing and I never want it to end.

I’ve been given this chance to share my story… This much I will always believe: All events have a greater significance if we make the connections between them. They make up the greater journey of life that has many trails and climbs. This much I know about myself and about my journey; That I love the outdoors (I always have) and I’m (currently) a solo hiker with the dream to climb 67 4,000+ft mountains in New England and to find myself along the way. Nothing can stop me except myself and the limitations that I place on me. And after all, a journey takes a life time… So, off I go...

Longevity

          It’s important to remember that everything and everyone you come in contact with is your teacher and you also have something to offer those that you come in contact with. Situations in life, concepts, and people are all interconnected and there is a reason for everything. This much I have always known as true and I have lived by this. For the past year however, I have been angry at my situations and concepts. I have been bitter because I have a disease that there is no cure for. I have been upset that my whole life had to change right down to the diet that I eat. When I would talk about these things, my words would always seem to be edged with disappointment, exhaustion, and sadness. I was now… Different. Even though I look no different than anyone else.

It took someone stopping in my life so briefly for me to realize just how much I was denying myself. It took someone not really caring about my disease for me to realize that I was the one drawing attention to it. And that I was the one letting the disease control me. Last summer, my basic mentality was that I could not do much because well, I’m sick. After all, when someone is sick, they often can’t exert themselves and do things that others can do. A pretty narrow view; I know, however, this was the difficult state I found myself in. And it was supported by some of the people around me because again, the disease was controlling me rather than me controlling the disease and incorporating it into my life.

Let me be clear…. I am a year and almost three months into a lifelong diagnosis of Hashimoto’s Disease. It will continue to develop and evolve as I evolve. This disease will not however have as much control over me as it has had in the past. I am no longer satisfied with sitting on the couch and squandering away the hours. I am for once living my life and not waiting for anything or anyone. Each night, I jog a trail which equals about three miles from my house to my stopping point round trip. Each Saturday during the summer and probably into the fall, I am hiking a state park trail just for variety and sometimes after I am done hiking, I will jog the trail just to book end the day. I have a goal of hiking to the top of Mt. Monadnock before the season is over and again, i will do it with or wiothout someone next to me. And just to relax, I head to one of my second homes; the beach. It is here that I feel the most peace and I can reconnect with myself. I would ultimately like to see myself get up on a surfboard before the summer season is over.

To be fair, I am still cognizant of my symptoms and my health. I never push myself beyond what I can do. I will however take myself right up to the edge to look over and admire the view. I will not settle for just sitting around and being stuck in my disease. I believe in challenging myself and in stretching my ability to function. And when I need to, I know when it’s time to be quiet and lay low. I am thankful that it has not happened too much this summer. I am also still living medication free and I don’t plan on taking much beyond my vitamin supplements any time soon. I believe my secret to longevity is the right combination of exercise, gluten free and organic diet, and a certain amount of mental grounding. The mental grounding was simply the last piece I needed to be in place. It has taken me a long time to get it and again, it took someone just stopping long enough in my life to teach me as well as the help of a very qualified professional to get me to resolve some pretty difficult states of mind. It is an ongoing exercise for me and I have incorporated it into my hikes where I have finally realized that everything has lead me to this particular point in my life. The hikes themselves have become a kind of walking meditation and a conversation with something higher than myself. And there was a reason for me getting sick as well as for the past year that I have squandered. I am only regretful that I did not realize it sooner. Then again, there is a reason that the timing is like this. To prepare me for what is to happen next.

So, I want to teach people that you can live with this disease and feel good. It doesn’t have to be a disease that locks you away and keeps you from enjoying life. You have to want it though. And that might mean that you have to stop looking up every symptom that you have. If you keep looking, of course you are going to find that you are sick which will make you feel worse and then you won’t be living. The disease will be living for you. If you resolve to incorporate the disease within your day, you’ll find that you can do a lot more. Fight it with changes in lifestyle and changes in diet. Eliminate chemicals and other unhealthy toxins in your life. You’ll be pleasantly surprised at how good you feel. And this would include toxic states of mind. Be the person that you want to be. Not the sick person you appear to be. In therapy, I hear people tell me that they are Bipolar. I correct them and tell them that they have bipolar but they are actually, let's say "Bob". Maybe the same can be said of Hashimoto’s and other incurable autoimmune disease. After all, I have Hashimoto’s but my name is Rachel and I live like everyone else does.

Longevity hangs on my wall as a reminder that I have a long life ahead of me… And I am not going to let much stop me or keep me down.   

A Year in the Life of My Dying Thyroid.....

             I’ve been humbled over the past year…  I’ve always considered myself to be a humble (well, with moments, OK… stretches of time where I’m a little bit of an egoist.) person. This blog is just a snap shot of a year in my life. I am sure that I have left a few things out here and there. I was humbled this time around by an illness that gave me a crazy year of perspectives and well, humbling moments. A year ago (4/14/10), I was given the diagnosis of Hashimoto’s Disease. There is no cure and as it progresses, it get's worse before treatment is even applied. There is only management until that point and that in itself can be humbling considering the wide variety of symptoms that can occur. It resonates with me though daily… There is no cure. That does not sit well in my brain. I have no concept of something not getting better. Especially something that is not getting better... In me. Oh, it’s not going to kill me and most would think that it's no big deal (mostly because they cannot put themselves in my shoes).  It’s just making life uncomfortable sometimes and that, is the humbling part. There are times when it’s REALLY uncomfortable and I just have to keep moving even if I feel like I just can't keep moving anymore. I can’t believe sometimes that I’ve been living with this for a year. And in actuality, I've been living with this to some degree for a lot longer than a year... The doctors only "caught it" a year ago.

When I began this journey, I was wrapped in a whirlwind of tests and wonder since no one could really put all my symptoms together: shaking hands, coordination issues, dizziness, pressure in my head, racing heartbeat, cold and hot flashes, vision problems, memory issues, speach problems, and on and on and on... I did a month of cancer testing  and that is a month I’ll never get back. Oh, it wasn’t much for me to do considering it was just my blood and fluids the people at the lab wanted. It WAS just the feeling looming over my head that I was being tested for some very hard to find adrenal and endocrine tumors. And let's not forget my favorite Neuroblastoma. I also had to be tied to a heart monitor for a month to see how the ticker was actually functioning. I tell ya, you have not lived until you’ve been lying on the couch and watch the monitor show your heart rate climb to 400bpm then crash to around 70bpm in seconds (talk about perspective). For the record, my heart is STILL doing this little trick occasionally (though you'll never know it unless you are with me) and it tires me out almost instantly. If you think of it, when I said that I fell asleep at like 6pm, that's usually why. Oh, and I’ve also seen my heart in real time on ultrasound… Like a train wreck, I had to watch it completely facinated. And all the while I am thinking that I should not see this much of me internally; mostly because I’ve seen an ultrasound of my Thyroid at this point as well. Trust me when I say, it’s disintegrating… Slowly. Anyway, I made it through the cancer testing unscathed and cancer free at least. Life changed for me the moment I was finally given a diagnosis and it’s taken me almost a year to get things under some kind of control. Mostly because the doctors said I'd be stabilized and on medication in a month... Well, it's been a year and still... Nothing but a bunch of symptoms. But, I know what it is now, at least.

I learned a lot in a year’s time. I think first and foremost, I learned who can stand with me and who is just going to fall away or hang out on the periphery of my life. Being “sick”, made me intolerant of a lot of old baggage I was carrying since stress tends to make me feel worse. Suddenly, trying to cling to things that were out dated seemed silly and frivolous. Why waste all that time on people and things that weren’t going to be there when you needed them most? It hurt sometimes. More than I expected. Still, I didn’t (and still don’t ) have the energy to spare on literally forcing a square peg in a round hole. I’ve always said that I’m not going to work harder and I don’t expect anyone else to work harder. I just never expected to see some not work at all. And even still, as I look back on the year, I am so thankful for those that are still with me and a few new people that have joined me along the way. Without good people in my life, I am sure that I would be a lot sicker than I am. People help keep my stress level down (as well as occasionally drive it up. Let's be real here OK). Those that I can talk to about things happening to me. Those that are good in my life, I want them to stick around. I can't make them stick around though. Everyone makes their own decisions based on what ever reasoning they have. And again, I’m not going to work harder so, I have no problem with letting people go. Except that it hurts on several levels and while I feel saddened by this, all I can do is move on.

You see, life with an autoimmune disease, is just that… LIFE. I wake up each day and go to work and come home. No problem. Or at least no problem that the outside world can see. I'm not going to complain about every little thing that hurts me or makes me feel "off". I'll talk about it, but I am far from complaining. When I do talk about things, I just want to be heard. I don't need to be fixed... Apparently, I can't be fixed yet anyway. I just want someone to listen. In this years’ time, I have learned how to live again. To manage my highs and my lows on my own. After all, I’m ultimately the one that has to live with this. Everyone else is on the periphery. They can't stop it. they can't give me back my sense of smell. They can't take the pain away. they certainly can't slow my heart down when it races. What they can do is be there to listen when I need them. they can check on me when I'm quiet (a sign I am sick). And most importantly just be the friends that I need in my life. Uncomplicated. Drama free. You see, I spent a number of months seeking out answers and seeking out treatment. Subsequently, my answer seeking lead to more questions and my treatment, well that kept getting denied. Every couple of month, my symptoms would rear their ugly heads in a big way and I would run back to the doctor or the lab for more tests and more… DISAPPOINTMENT. Denial of treatment to me was equated with denial of feeling better. Each time I went back to the doctor, I was given the same speech. That it was all in my head. That it was anxiety (it was anxiety… Anxiety of not getting a straight answer). That my symptoms were normal part of aging and that I’d need to learn to live with them. That while I have Hashimoto's, my "numbers" are not in range of treatment even though I have horrible symptoms. I’d say it was not until after the first of the year (2011) that I finally woke up. I could remember struggling to make sense of a lot of things happening in my life. Cognitively, I was a mess and just trying to express myself as well as keep myself on an even keel. I can remember driving through Keene NH and finally realizing that I was chasing after something that would tie me to a pill for the rest of my life. I’d actually been doing fine on the gluten free diet, and supplementing with vitamins. Why the HELL was I chasing a synthetic medication when I was living rather organically? I cried a lot that day as well as on a lot of other days in this past year because I realized what a complete and utter basket case I had become. I had let the disease control me instead of me controlling the disease. Subsequently, I destroyed a lot of relationships with this mentality. Within a few days, I canceled my remaining doctor’s appointment. I was done with doctors. I became determined to manage this disease on my own. Until I can’t manage it anymore. Until that day, there is no point in my seeking out treatment. I’m already treating myself with natural solutions. Diet and exercise have a lot to do with the course of this disease. So, now I try and eat healthy as well as live healthy. This would include mentally and physically and some days are harder than others still.

What I have learned in the past year is that gluten is the enemy of my Thyroid. It’s the gluten molecules that mimic the thyroid and trigger the attacks. Those attacks sometimes result in debilitating pain in my joints and my very fast heart rate among other symptoms. The joint issues are mostly because Hashimoto’s is an inflammatory disease and when my joints swell, I can’t move around easily and the pain clouds my thoughts and vision. And when my Thyroid acts up, it speeds up my heart and respiratory rate since the overabundance of hormones seem to dictate those systems. So, I cut it out and while the attacks have not completely gone, they have lessened to a degree. Remember as the Thyroid dies it sometimes lets out a tremendous amount of hormone on it's own inspite of a gluten free diet. as well effecting the same things as the gluten. This also means that my Thyroid is ceasing to work and I am becoming slower or hypothyroid. I’m not looking forward to this as it seems to be a struggle to stay active and when the heart and the respritory rate slow, it will be a different sessation to get use too as well as some discomfort again. Right now, I have the pleasure of being primarily Hyperthyroid with a few days here and there of being hypothyroid. (lucky me, I can flip flop!) Although I know that the change is slowly happening. Again, this past year has taught me to really pay attention to how I am functioning on many different levels. I’ve never been more in tune with myself.

So, here’s the very not humbled part of me. Here’s the very tute my own horn and shout “Hell yeah, even with a disease, I can do this!”. You see, I live by myself and manage my life on my own rather nicely. Mix in a year of ups and downs with an autoimmune disease to get through and you too would be a little more confident. A little more forthright. A little more go after what you want. My disease for the better part of this year since my diagnosis has changed me for the better too. It’s opened my eyes to a new way of thinking and taking roads less traveled to see if I can. And just the other day, I had an “F you Hashimoto’s moment”.  I went out to enjoy the sunshine and went for a hike.  My body was egging me on to take a jog and I listened. I had not jogged since well before my diagnosis and it felt dam good. It felt like I had bested something within me. It felt like for a moment, I didn't have a disease. I was proud of myself for once again doing something that I thought I could not do anymore. I have Hashimoto’s Disease. It does not have me.

If you are reading this and don’t get it, that’s OK. If you are reading this and jumping to your own conclusions without asking questions, shame on you. All you need to do is ask questions to understand and gain clarity. I learned this much in my life. It’s been a year of understanding myself and how I can function in this world with this ‘thing’. Many have under estimated me and I have occasionally over estimated myself. At least I can say I’ve tried and I’ve learned in a year how to live with Hashimoto’s disease instead of letting it run my life. I never wanted to be that girl that went from doctor to doctor. I almost became that person. So glad I stopped and came to my sense. If you are reading this and saying to yourself, ‘Way to go. Way to come to an understanding and way to live’, thanks. The journey is just beginning with other battles to be fought as this disease progresses and gets tougher. Stick by and watch what happens (won't you?). After all, most battles are not fought alone.