Chronic Disease and Mindset

Yoga poses that I flowed through easily 2 months ago are now painful. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to get up after remaining seated for too long. I hear myself saying, "ouch ouch ouch" at least 5 times a day. I know what this means. I've been through this before. I've tried to blame it on the weather or excessive time on the bike but I know what is happening. My disease is progressing. Again. 

I knew this was inevitable. I mean... my disease is progressive in nature. Two years ago I met with my surgeon to discuss my future. I had just overcome the most challenging recovery from knee surgery numbers 9 to 11 and was wondering how long I had until the other knee would require the same surgery. Dr. Carey carefully examined the multiple MRI's of my right knee and attempted to make a prediction about an expiration date. I knew that once the lesion became too large, I would no longer be a candidate for a transplant...so I needed a date. Dr. Carey estimated Spring 2021. At the time, that seemed like eons away and up until about 2 months ago, I had no indication that my right knee was deteriorating at all. It felt stable and pain was very minimal. But, as to be expected, my pain is increasing, and I feel my mood, confidence, and self-esteem wavering as well. 

The narrative in my head has flipped from "I am strong. I am healthy. I am well" to "I am broken. I am sick. I am useless." I went from feeling proud of my body to feeling disappointed and frustrated with my body for failing again. My narrative establishes my mindset. As my pain increases, I can feel my mindset shifting. I have experienced this before so I know that I need to put an end to this quickly. I have found myself in dark, lonely places where I question why Evan would love someone who is defective. I have questioned why my friends would want to hang out with someone who requires so much assistance. I have felt guilt for being such a burden to my family. I know that these thoughts are harmful. I know that it's very important for me to change my narrative ASAP so that my mindset doesn't shift into "whoa is me" territory. 

Like many people with chronic diseases, I have found myself searching for someone to help me. I know fellow chronic illness sufferers who spend hours on the phone, in doctor's offices, and online searching for Doctors and treatments, all in the hopes that they will experience relief. I've been there. Luckily, I did find my guy - Dr. Carey - a cartilage specialist in Philly. However, Dr. Carey offers one solution for me which is a series of very difficult surgeries with a long and painful recovery. He is the last resort solution, and presently, with our borders closed, not even an option at this time. So who is going to help me? No one. I need to help myself. That thought might throw one into a frenzy; however, I choose to look at it as a way to maintain some control over this disease. I might not be able to control the physical aspect of this disease, but I can control my thoughts around it. 

I wish that I could present you with a nice little list: 4 Things you can do to shift your mindset. But...I don't have a tried and true list, to be honest. Even after 11 years of dealing with Osteochondritis Dissecans (OCD), I am still in the experimental phase, and continue to make many mistakes along the way. So...I've compiled a short list of the strategies that have not been effective for me and have offered alternative solutions. Perhaps if I write this down I will follow my own advice! 

Here it goes...

1) Push a little harder

Ahhh....this is my go-to when I begin to suspect that things are deteriorating. Instead of taking a day off the gym and elevating my knee with heat and ice, I "bravely" limp into the gym and try to "walk it off." I cycle on the bike for an hour or do an extra 30 minutes on the elliptical - like I can spin the cartilage disease right out of me! My buddy, Darren, tried to walk off decompression sickness (AKA "the bends") after a dive. You can't "walk off" the bends. Likewise, you can't "walk off" Osteochondritis Dissecans. 

Narrative: "Look at all the things you can no longer do. You are getting worse."

Alternative Solution:

Although pushing yourself harder when you feel like crap is not an effective treatment, I would highly recommend continuing to move. Laying dormant for too long can increase pain as well as invite negative thoughts into your head. Let endorphins be your friend and find a way to sweat without aggravating your affected area. For example, even when my knees are painful I can lay on a mat and do an ab workout or pick up a weight and work on my triceps. The burn in my muscles makes me feel athletic and fit, which promotes my "healthy" mindset. 

2) Booze

We've all heard the saying, "You booze, you lose." In most cases I would tend to agree with this statement when it comes to chronic illness. Drinking alcohol might temporarily ease some pain, but nothing is worse than dealing with a hangover on top of the pain you are already experiencing. 

Narrative: "You are so stupid. Why would you inflict this upon yourself?"

Alternative Solution:

I do highly recommend getting out and socializing with friends when you are suffering with pain. The other day I was lying listless on the couch as I was experiencing significant pain. As I flicked aimlessly through the channels, I could hear my inner voice saying, "Look at you. You are a loser who lays on the couch all day." Harsh, hey? But then my buddy, Stacey, dropped by and suggested we go out for some ice cream. To be honest, I didn't want to go but I knew that I needed a change of scenery. We ended up at our favorite local beach bar and I added a couple of drinks with my ice cream (Macabuca punch pairs nicely with cookies and cream). I found myself laughing with the bartender, reminiscing with Stace, and feeling like a fun friend! Don't get me wrong, the sensation of a screwdriver twisting into my knee was still present, but I was able to distract myself and get out of my own head for a few hours. 

3) Getting wrapped up in your disease

Yikes. I have found myself avoiding social events and spending way too much time on the online OCD support group lamenting about how awful this disease is and how hopeless I feel. Misery loves company. After a few hours of falling down the OCD rabbit hole, although I know that I am not alone, I typically feel pretty shitty and demoralized. 

Narrative: "Well...we are all stuck in this hopeless rut together."

Alternative Solution:

I do think that talking about your disease with others is helpful. Instead of attempting to conceal the pain and pretending that everything is fine, I try to warn my friends before meeting up with them, "Just FYI it's a bad knee day" or I let Ev know, "I'm sorry I'm in a bad mood. My knees are really bugging me." I think that it is important to not feel shameful about your pain, and although no one wants to hear you drone on and on about it, communicating to your close peeps is vital so that they can understand why you may be a little more quiet than usual or why you are grimacing when you move. In addition, I've found that informing my buds that I am nervous about an activity helps take the burden off a bit. For example, one of my most dreaded activities is getting up at a table and walking out of a restaurant. I am fearful of falling or drawing attention to myself. In this situation, I quietly let Ev know that my knees aren't great, and he helps me up and holds my hand as we walk out. In addition, instead of sitting on the OCD support group page and lamenting with others, I try to offer solutions for members who are having issues. I have suggested different medications, sleeping positions, and gentle exercises to alleviate pain. Although I'm not always feeling so solution-based, I find that the "fake it until I make it" strategy can alter my narrative to, "I can help people by sharing my experience."

4) The Medication roller coaster

I've been on both ends of the spectrum with regards to prescription painkillers. I have been dependent on a medley of various medications and suffered through horrible side effects and excruciating withdrawal symptoms. I have also eliminated prescription meds from my life and suffered through pain while relying only on "natural" painkilling methods. Neither plan was successful for me. 

Narrative: "Just suffer through it. If you take a painkiller then you are a failure again."

Alternative Solution:

I am presently in this predicament. I have felt so proud to be free of prescription painkillers for the past few years that I find myself boasting this fact to others - like it is some type of feat for which I deserve a medal. The fact is, the pain that I am experiencing sans painkillers is now affecting my ability to function. The pain has begun to affect my ability to think clearly and to enjoy interactions with others.  I know that I need to stop associating prescription painkillers with failure and seek help. It's time to meet with my Pain Specialist and create a new safe medication plan that will keep my medication risks to a minimum, yet help me to enjoy more "good" days. 

So...maybe this post resonates with you and hopefully you can learn from my mistakes. I think that the first step in shifting your mindset is listening to what your inner voice is telling you. If you are saying things to yourself that you wouldn't say to your worst enemy, you need to re-evaluate these thoughts and find strategies/activities to alter your thinking. Easier said than done...I know. I am still figuring it out. 

Cheers Friends. 

Just hanging with my famous friends - No big Deal

Hey everyone - what's up?

We are still stranded on a tropical island, but very safely stranded at this time. We haven't had any new cases of Covid in 17 days and there are currently no active cases, so it's not really a "thing" here at the moment. We are still mandated to wear masks in all indoor locations, as well as at outdoor bars/restaurants until we are seated, but overall, it's kinda nice being free to do whatever we want while having the island, essentially, to ourselves. There is a plan to open the border in phases, with phase 1 beginning September 1.  However, our government is really making travellers work for it. If you wish to come to Cayman, you must test negative for Covid and submit your results to the government within 72 hours of your flight. Once you arrive, you will be equipped with a "bio-button" for your entire stay, which is a tracking device that monitors your heart rate, temperature, etc to detect any early signs of the virus. You must also self-isolate for 5 days and then generate another negative Covid test before you are free to explore the island. I mean, let's be honest, only those who have property or family in Cayman - people who truly have a desire to be here - will come in phase 1. But I appreciate that the Government is diligently creating plans that will ensure our safety, so I'm all for it. This also means that we are not leaving anytime soon. 

I am thankful that I am safe and able to move freely in such a beautiful place. That being said, I am so homesick that it hurts. I was thinking about how our 10 months in Cayman, 2 months in Canada plan is so ideal for a couple like me and Ev. Evan is an introvert. I am an extrovert (I bet you are mind-blown with this new information 😂). Our life in Cayman really suits Evan's introvert personality. Although we have incredible friends and an active social life in Cayman, we do spend a lot of time at our home - just the two of us. Our home is quiet, serene, and tranquil. We seek out social events when we crave time with our buds and because we are all spread out across the island, we are more likely to meet friends at the beach, bars, restaurants, etc. In Candle Lake, on the other hand, our lifestyle is conducive to my extrovert personality. Our cabin is a "hub" of activity and we are constantly welcoming visitors on foot, bike, and boat. Our weekends are spent mixing cocktails on our deck, boating, and visiting with friends and family in our hot tub. Although Ev and I rarely have time to ourselves, we are always surrounded by laughter, popping corks, and music. I know that by the end of our 8 weeks in Canada, Evan is typically craving serenity; whereas, by the end of June I am anticipating the buzz of Candle Lake life. 

Obviously this year I lost my 2 months of extrovert heaven. I'm missing my buzz. 

I have been diligently booking lunches, pool dates, beach excursions, and happy hours with my awesome island buds, but I am still finding the days long, lonely, and quiet. 

As I mentioned in a previous blog, I am a huge Candace Cameron Bure (AKA "DJ") from "Full House" fan. I follow her on Instagram and enjoy her style, as well as her workout regime. She hired a personal trainer by the name of Kira Stokes, who happens to have an app. After doing Instagram live workouts with Candace on a few occasions, I decided to invest in the app so that I could work out with Kira on a daily basis. In addition to Candace Cameron Bure, Kira also trains other celebrities, such as Ashley Graham and gymnast Nastia Liukin. Often the workouts are broadcasted live on Instagram and I can actually work out with my famous "friends."

One day Ev and I went for a dip in the pool (which is presently hovering around the 95 degree mark) and Ev asked me what my plans for the week were. I enthusiastically responded, "Oh well on Monday I'm doing arms and abs with Candace. Nastia says that we will do shoulders on Wed. You should have seen it was sooo funny Ashley dropped her weights yesterday while she was bridging...." I stopped abruptly as I saw the look on Evan's face. Evan's facial expression, which began as "interested," quickly morphed into "concerned" and then into "pity." Yikes. 

"Hey guys! Wanna grab a cocktail after our workout?"

At that moment it occurred to me that making an effort to see "real" people on a regular basis needed to be a top priority in my life. 😂

On another note, it was nine years ago today that we lost our bud Ryan Holowaty. I really don't like to remember that tragic day on the river; on the other hand, I feel like it's important to acknowledge July 31. In 10 days time, it will be exactly one year since we lost our Monty. During these quiet, thoughtful summer days, I find myself reflecting on such huge losses, but also wondering if Monty and Ryan found each other. I imagine them randomly meeting up at a beach bar, sharing a beer, and coming to the realization that they both know me and Ev. I can hear Holowaty's excited squeal and can picture the expression on Monty's face - the one he made when he was thoroughly entertained by another human. This image brings a smile to my face during a time when I'm not smiling so much. 

Well...that's all I have to report from here. I just got off Facetime with my Baba. It was so nice to see her face and hear her voice. I miss her so much. She told me that she checks my blog everyday so I knew that I had to post today for my dear Baba. I Miss you, Baba, but it is so nice to see you looking so well and so happy at your home on the farm.  💓

Take care everyone. If you are somewhere where hugging is allowed, go hug someone special today. 

I miss you a waffle lot!

Hey guys! How's it going?

Things have changed a lot on our little island since we last spoke. The number of positive cases being identified weekly is dwindling; in fact, we haven't had a positive case in over a week! The island is still testing at a rapid rate and at this point, almost half of Cayman has been screened. Although they were still finding positive cases up until a week ago, no one has been exhibiting any symptoms or has been admitted to hospital with Covid in months. In addition, our only death continues to be patient zero, the unfortunate man who passed away in our hospital when he fell ill on a cruise ship in February.

So, overall, Cayman is in pretty good shape. I mean, compared to the rest of the world, we are flourishing. We have moved to Level 2 suppression which means that all of our businesses are now open, we are permitted to shop, eat, drink, scuba dive, and staycay in hotels. Groups of 25 or less are allowed and there are definitely small groups congregating at the beach, pools, etc. On July 19, restrictions relax further and we are allowed to sing Karaoke and wait for it....dance - which I think is hilarious! I know Evan can't wait as he's been holding his hips back for months now! 😂(It's like we are living the Caribbean version of "Footloose").

Masks are mandatory in indoor spaces, and we must wear our masks when we are en route to be seated in outdoor bars and restaurants. Even though it's HOT AF right now, no one is really complaining about wearing a mask, and many are donning fashionable face coverings with palm fronds, Cayman Island flags, and even sequins! I do feel for the servers who are working outdoors and dripping in sweat under their face masks -but I think at this point, people who are working in hospitality are fricken happy to still have a job.

Staycay at the Kimpton

The plan continues to be to open up the schools at the end of August, which I feel comfortable with - although it will be challenging to navigate social distancing and masks with 500+ children. We really are living in a relatively safe little bubble isolated from the rest of the world. With our borders still closed, I certainly do not feel vulnerable to the virus - although I am happy to wear my mask and sanitize the crap out of my ugly chapped hands. The concern, however, is the re-opening of our borders. There seems to be a division of opinion on this one. There is something to be said about segregating ourselves from the rest of the world and having the ability to basically live life as "normal" without worrying about becoming ill. However, our island relies heavily on tourism. Given that most of the Caribbean has opened it's borders, Cayman is definitely feeling the pressure to open to tourists as well, in order to keep our once thriving economy going. It will be interesting to observe our Caribbean neighbours as they open up their borders.

The present theory is that whatever strain or version of Covid that we are experiencing in Cayman is much weaker than what they are experiencing in New York, for example. The concern is that if a stronger strain enters are safe little space, it may spread quickly, making us sick and overwhelming our few hospitals on island. My worry, from an "educator's" standpoint is that our borders will open soon after our schools and we will be in jeopardy of school closures again. Our poor little kiddos are in desperate need of structure and consistency, and it would be such a shame to be finally settling into school routine again and then suddenly reverting back to "home schooling" (I put this in quotations because very few of my students were legitimately participating in home schooling). We have worked so hard maintaining compliancy for 4 months to get to this safe place - it would be so unfortunate to regress back as a result of opening our borders. We shall see.

In the meantime, although I am thoroughly enjoying the freedom of dining out, attending beach BBQ's with friends, and even partaking in a Kimpton staycation, I am homesick. I am really really really homesick. I know... I know - I am so grateful to be living in such a beautiful and safe space, especially when so many in the world are essentially back in lockdown mode. I have no right to complain, but I'm just being honest. I am so homesick that it hurts.

Everyday I realize something else that I miss about being home. Here's a sampler:

• I miss sleeping with our windows open and breathing FRESH AIR
• I miss tea and cookies with my Grandma
• I miss my daily Paddle board workouts with Kayla
• I miss lounging on mom's couch while we watch some version of 90 day fiance
• I miss stopping at the farm to see Baba
• I miss the smell of pine trees and campfires
• I miss riding my bike to Dad's for a deck beer
• I miss surfing with the Hunters - and I really miss Darren's loud boat tunes ("Jason Derulo!" ;) 
• I miss my morning coffee visit with Janna
• I miss sunset beach floats with Linds and Brad
• I miss cheering on Evan and Peg during a corn hole champion match
• I miss not sweating straight through every damn outfit 10 minutes after going outside
• I miss shopping at Winners and celebrating the exchange rate ("This is practically free!") 
• I miss laying on the dock and watching the Northern lights
• I miss the random stop-bys - we always have friends and family stopping by for a visit
• I miss the sound of the loons echoing across the lake 
• I miss Tim Hortons and the really nice Filipino man who says "Here you go pretty lady," when he hands me my tea

I mean...I could go on and on. You get the point. I miss home. I have anxiety about not being able to get back home if something happens or if someone becomes ill. I also feel a bit panicky about hurricane season. It is predicted to be a bad one and we have been warned that evacuation flights in the event of a hurricane will likely not be an option for us. EEEEKS. But man, everyone in the world is experiencing heightened anxiety right now, hey? I miss precedented times!!!!

Well that's the update for now. To my Canadian buds - I miss you so much, please do not have any fun without me 😜, and I look forward to the day when we can be reunited.  

Stay cool - or HOT AF like me! 😝

This is as close as I could get! 

Puke, Pills, and Pity.

Hey guys!

It's been a while. Well let's be honest, hasn't the last month felt like the equivalent of about 2 years?  I don't even know how to articulate my feelings about what has been going on in the world over the past month. It's been upsetting, unsettling, frustrating, and rendered me speechless - for a while. I am listening. I am watching in horror.  I privately reached out to a few people who I knew were struggling, but honestly, I just didn't know what to do (I still don't).  I feel like I'm watching the terrible version of Back to the Future IV and am desperately looking for Doc to get the Flux Capacitor in working order so that we can go back to whatever year(s) it is we need to return to in order to fix the f'n mess of a world we live in today.

Anyway - reigning it in...I don't think that people read my blog for political insight and I do have a story that might make you giggle. God knows that we all need a laugh right now...

Feeling as though I was experiencing a total loss of control, I decided to focus my energy on something that I could control (to an extent) - my pets medication protocol.

As I have mentioned previously, my sweet little dog, Dundee, is suffering from congestive heart failure due to a degenerative valve disease. His heart failure is progressing and it's important to monitor his respiratory rate in order to determine appropriate daily doses of 5 different heart medications.  In addition, Biloxi, the most interesting cat in the world, is now nearing 19 years of age and is experiencing some liver issues, as well as dementia, which causes him to place his little orange paws on my face at 3am and scream bloody murder for 3 hours. Super relaxing.

This is the screaming face. All. Night. Long. 

We have a Vet Extraordinaire, Dr. Colin, who patiently responds to my Whatsapp messages at 11pm when I am panicking about a 10 breaths per minute increase in Dundee's respiratory rate. He listens calmly to my explanation and provides an immediate plan for me ("Ok, let's increase the lasix by 1/2 tonight and monitor"). I appreciate him and his team very much.

Thankfully, Dundee takes his meds like a champ. Five large heart pills (twice daily!) are not an easy thing to disguise. I simply bury them in a small peanut butter pill pocket and Dundee happily thinks that he is getting an influx of "treats" for being such a good boy. He cheerfully crunches down on the bitter pills and licks his lips, thanking me for such a wonderful surprise.

"Hey guys! Can I bother you for another one of those crunchy peanut butter balls?"

Biloxi, on the other hand, is seasoned. He is old and has a wealth of life experience. From traveling across the United states with his little orange head resting on Evan's steering wheel to being quarantined at Heathrow for smuggling catnip into the United Kingdom, he has experienced it all. There is no way to disguise the one tiny pill in his favourite cat food, the tastiest of cat treats, or even in the ultimate delicacy - tuna. He's just not having it. So we purchased a "pill gun," a tortuous device that quickly shoots the pill down his throat. I enlisted Evan as the "shooter," and this procedure immediately became the most dramatic event to occur since Colton jumped the fence on the Bachelor.

Here is the procedure for administering tiny cat pills via the "torture gun":

1) Evan chases Biloxi around the house (Biloxi knows Evan's intentions are tortuous in nature).
2) Evan places Biloxi in a (compassionate) choke hold.
3) Biloxi begins salivating in preparation to puke prior to administration of the pills (AKA: pre-puke stage).
4) Evan shoots the pill down Biloxi's throat and blows on Biloxi's face to encourage swallowing.
5) Biloxi swallows the pill and immediately jumps to the ground in a fit of rage and begins frothing at the mouth like a demon feline from Pet Cemetery.
6) Biloxi pukes at least 3 times in various locations (preferably on expensive items of clothing and/or furniture).
7) Procedure is repeated two to three times until pill is ingested.

We did this for 2 weeks. Two. F'n. Weeks.

The last straw occurred one evening as we were preparing to head to bed, and Evan had administered Biloxi's bedtime pills.

Warning: If you are currently eating or vomit makes you squeamish, stop reading here.

Biloxi frothed and heaved around the house and I followed closely with paper towel and lysol wipes - and can I just clarify that the sound of the cat puking may possibly be the most cringe-worthy sound in the history of cringe-worthy sounds. As I cleaned his first round of puke, he quickly ejected his next deposit, which included the pills still intact. Before I could reach over and clean it up, Dundee enthusiastically bounded over and ate the pills. Yes you read that correctly. Dundee the dog ate the regurgitated cat pills.

I immediately panicked, concerned that Biloxi's pills would instantaneously stop Dundee's heart. Now in tears, I called my Dr. Colin and frantically explained the situation.

"Ok. So Dundee ate Biloxi's puked up pills?" questioned Dr. Colin.

"Yes! I sobbed. Is he going to be Okay?"

There was a delay and some muffled laughter.

"Yes. He will be fine, Kirstie," laughed Dr. Colin.

Oh. Ya. Ok. Perhaps a slight overreaction?

"Ok thank you. Have a good night, Dr. Colin."

Long story short, everyone survived. We did make an executive decision to discontinue Biloxi's medication. We have limited his evening bourbon consumption in hopes of delaying the liver damage. hehe.

"Get this camera out of my face!"

"Make them go away!"

"Hey guys! I eat cat puke!" 

So you know...this is what has been occupying my time as I continue life in my tiny bubble on Grand Cayman.

In other news, Cayman is moving to Level 2 suppression this weekend - basically all of our shelter in place restrictions are being lifted. I am hopeful that this helps us return to some sense of normalcy. Three months has been a long time without the ability to socialize with friends in person.

The island is still activity screening hundreds of people daily and are generally finding anywhere betweeen 1-10 positives each week...so Covid-19 is definitely present and active on island; however, there has only been 1 symptomatic case since April, so for whatever reason, people are not getting sick in Cayman. Despite the re-opening of all of our businesses, our border will remain closed until at least September.

The school year is winding down and will end next week. There is typically a buzz in our office and amongst my colleagues - usually the excitement and anticipation for the impending summer holidays is palpable the last few weeks of June. I don't feel that this year. I feel the loss of Monty now, more than ever. The end of the school year was always a time we re-convened in the office, listened to Monty's 90's CD's, and shared so many laughs. I have resigned myself to the fact that I will not see my Canadian friends and family this summer, which still makes me feel incredibly sad. On the other hand, I acknowledge the fact that we live in a relatively safe and harmonious place in relation to the rest of the world, and I am very thankful for the fantastic group of friends on island with whom we will soon be reunited.

If you know me well, then you know that I enjoy age-inappropriate T-shirts. I possess many of these shirts that say things like, "Not without my wine," or "Drinks well with others." The other day I was donning my latest, "Available for Drinks," shirt whilst sipping wine on my patio. It was raining sideways and visibility was limited in that you couldn't even see the pool from our patio through the wall of wet. I began sobbing, feeling lonely and experiencing the "island fever" anxiety of being trapped on a rock, when Evan came outside to see how I was doing. He read my T-shirt, "Available for drinks," took in my pathetic presentation, and chuckled a little. I couldn't help but laugh along with him. The contrast between my enthusiastic T-shirt and my pitiful demeanour was pretty entertaining. It's good to laugh when you can. What else can you do?

I'm fine! It's fine. It's all going to be fine. 

I hope my pet med tale (tail?? haha) made you laugh as well.

Take care everyone. I miss you!

When You are on the Coronacoaster but your Spouse is Not

A friend recently posted a meme about being on the "Coronacoaster," which could be defined as the emotional ups and downs of the pandemic. You know...one minute you are making sourdough bread from scratch and alphabetizing your spice rack, and the next minute you are drinking wine for breakfast and ugly crying over a Honda "We'll get through this together" commercial. This is me. I am there. I am on the coronacoaster - the big one - like the ride at Universal Studios that boasts the largest climb and fastest freefall in the world. Evan, however, is not on the ride. Evan is on the sidelines, casually eating some popcorn, and urging everyone to stay off the coronacoaster. He is rock steady. Calm. Cool. Collected. I am happy for him. I really am. But it's just a little...um...annoying, to be honest.

I don't consider myself a particularly emotional person. Sad movies don't generally make me cry. I rarely yell or get animated when I am angry. Although I love hard, I'm not much of a hugger or one to participate in public displays of affection. However, in the past week I have 1) Sobbed uncontrollably at least 6 times (one particularly bad cry occurred when the repatriation flight to Canada dared to fly directly over our house)  2) Thrown objects against the wall in fits of rage (the video lesson that I was producing was cut off with 1 minute to completion 3) Felt so incredibly moved by a beautiful sunset that my jaw shook in preparation for another ugly cry, and 4) Hung onto Evan like a stage 4 clinger, pleading with him not to fall asleep before me (AS IF!).  That being said, just like that I can rebound - I can wipe the tears and snot from my face and totally crush a challenging 1 hour workout. I can rock myself back and forth in a corner and then immediately hop on a zoom call and deliver one hell of pep talk to the client's parent. It feels like a permanent PMS trip. Then I saw the meme...it all makes sense now. I am on the Coronacoaster. It's a "thing." Apparently I am not the only one...I mean, if they created a meme about it then surely there are others out there who are experiencing severe emotional ups and downs. Anyone? Anyone? It's a shitty ride and I want off.

Evan, on the other hand, seems to be flourishing under our current conditions. Let's be honest, anyone who knows Evan will joke that he's been training for a pandemic his whole life. Evan is an introvert. He is a man of contemplation who is comfortable with solitude. Evan has worked from home for the past 6 years, so other than the fact that his puffy-eyed crazed wife occasionally stumbles into his office in the middle of the day, announcing that she's created a new gin cocktail, nothing much has changed for his day-to-day life. In fact, while so many are struggling to adapt to the "new normal" (whatever that means), Evan is presently creating a program to assist fitness businesses in adapting to Covid life. So as I complain about the fact that I will have to brush my hair in preparation to produce my 45th Speech and language video lesson that is being viewed by...um...no one, Evan has taught himself how to code and is creating a website to support this new branch of his business.

Now don't get me wrong - I am very proud of Ev. I feel extremely lucky to be partnered with such a calm and anchored man who has managed to create opportunity amidst adversity. Not many people can do that! Evan doesn't feel extreme sadness right now. He doesn't look out at the vast sea and experience anxiety about feeling trapped on a tiny island. Evan doesn't lay awake for hours listening to ensure that Dundee isn't short of breath. And a part of me wishes he did...just for a minute...misery loves company, right?

Thankfully, Evan is very supportive, and never makes me feel ashamed or guilty for my emotional outbursts during this pandemic. He knows that I am not coping particularly well and he soon realized that I am not presently emotionally stable enough to tackle life goals. Instead of suggesting that I write a book or take an online class, he now suggests a bike ride or a hot tub "party" (haha - Read: We sit in the hot tub, drink rum punch, and listen to Bob Marley). So although he never makes me feel bad, I do feel a little loser-ish for having zero ambition and viewing a shower as a "win," when he is busy creating a website and drawing in new clients. I do feel guilty that while he coaches businesses how to adapt and flourish during Covid times, he, too, is adapting to being married to a coronacoaster casualty!

So...that's the current situation. We got our beach and our pool access back this week which has been diiiiviiiiine! (climbing high!). But I am missing my people so much it hurts -  I miss my island buds who I am still not legally permitted to see. I am really missing my bud Monty, and feel like I'm re-visiting a few stages of grief that I thought I had dealt with already. I'm missing my Canadian family and friends who I may not see now until (SOB) next year (freefall down!).

Cheers to enjoying the ride? 😁

Beach, please!

Hey guys,

Life has been challenging on our rock over the past month or so. Since the closing of our pool, beaches, and the implementation of hard and soft curfew that has prevented us from leaving our house during evenings and on Sundays, islanders have been more ornery than "cantankerous Kirstie" after 3 gin & tonics! This week after unsuccessfully attempting to provide speech therapy to families who are more concerned about where their next meal is coming from (rightly so), listening to the defeated voices of my co-workers on Zoom, and noting the discouraged frowns of my neighbours wandering aimlessly around our closed pool, it occurred to me that our island has definitely hit a wall this week. A massive cement wall.

When I hear about my Canadian buds having deck beers with friends and social distance coffees in driveways...even going for pleasure drives,  I have been extremely envious (READ: I love you, am super happy for you, but I want to punch you in your face). Our laws here during Covid have been some of the strictest, apparently, in the world. I have only ventured out weekly (I am allowed to drive on Tues, Thurs, and Sat but only to the supermarket, and only if donning a mask), I have been stopped by police on almost every outing, where they check my ID to ensure that I am driving on my appointed day and to question my intentions of leaving my house. A breach of curfew is a fine up to $3000CI and is a criminal offence, so you know...you don't "sneak" out for a little drive around here. In addition, the constant helicopters that circle our neighbourhood and police boats that patrol our waters are a constant reminder to just stay the F&%$ at home. It's super intense, especially when I hear about what life is like for my friends in Canada right now. In addition, it was announced officially that the Cayman border (airport) will remain closed until at least Sept, which resulted in a big 'ol ugly Kirstie cry which lasted for a few days....adding puffy eyes to my already deteriorating appearance. We will not be going home this summer. We will not be reuniting with our friends and family. I will not hug my Grandma. I will not visit with my Baba at the farm. It is still sinking in, but makes me feel incredibly sad and very disappointed. And...I am starting to cry again so let's move on...

Getting used to these coordinates...for the foreseeable future.

I find it interesting to read about other countries who are complaining about their rights being violated with the implementation of shelter in place laws. Sure, there are a few angry voices in Cayman that claim fishing is a Caymanian right, and there have been a few shootings in West Bay (but that's just West Bay being West Bay), but for the most part, our population is quietly adhering to the laws. When rights are questioned during press briefings, our Premier strongly states that it's the government's job to protect the right to life. Regardless if you are 100 years old or 2 years old, if you are Caymanian, Canadian, British, or Hondurian, we all have the right to live and it is our responsibility to protect this right. Caymanians have deep respect for their elders and those who are medically fragile (I have seen this first hand when I have been on crutches and community members have offered their position in line to me, etc).  So when people do complain about the economy or not being able to fish, our Premier states, "You can give up fishing for a while in order to save your Grandma." And that is that. No questions asked. This is Cayman's stance, aligning with their "Caymankind" culture, which appears much different than many countries of the world.

Oh how I miss our Westin happy hours!

I trust and hope that we are heading in a good direction, and today we received some very positive news that we, in fact, are on the right track.

Since testing has been amped up over the past few weeks, Cayman has now tested almost 6000 people. No one has come forward with symptoms over the past few weeks; however, all of our front line workers, including supermarket employees and healthcare workers are currently being screened. A few positive cases are still being detected daily which cannot be traced back to travel, indicating community spread, but for the most part, our numbers are quite low. Overall, 94 people tested positive, and over 50 of those have since recovered. Cayman has had 1 death, and that death was patient zero - a man who arrived off a cruise ship in March. We currently do not have any patients in the hospital.

Because our curve is almost as flat as my chest, some of our restrictions are relaxing as of next week. We get our beaches back, beaches! Whoooo. Now, we can only go to the beach on our alphabet day (That's Tues, Thurs and Sat for us), and we can only go with the intent to exercise for 2 hours. No beach BBQ's. No sunbathing. No sitting in a chair. And no meeting up with anyone outside of your household. I will take it! In addition, our dear dear pool will be opening again. Although I am quite certain that it's now the same temperature as our hot tub, I cannot wait to do some water walking and lounge by the pool with a book. These are luxuries that I have missed sooo much! It's been like 97 degrees with humidity everyday, which is like trying to get a breath fresh air during a hot shower, so I cannot wait to cool off somewhere!

So hopefully that cement wall that we are all ramming our heads into will disappear with a few of our restrictions next week!

In the meantime, stay safe everyone! Cheers

I'm home! I'm home! Leave me alone!

Why Smart Women Watch Shitty TV

I woke up gasping for air as sweat dripped down my face. I quickly reached over to open my top drawer and began frantically searching for the medication.

"Where's the pill? Where's the pill?" I repeated, tossing bottles of medication haphazardly around in the drawer.

 I abruptly came to the realization that I was dreaming again. I leaned back against my pillow and took a deep breath. There is no pill. This is a dream. There is no pill. Calm down. Go back to sleep.

I've been plagued by the "Where's the pill?" night terror for about 7 years now.

It began when I was diagnosed with Osteochondritis dissecans in my knees and was undergoing surgeries every few months. You know that moment when you are just about to fall asleep? In that moment many people experience the sensation of falling and then awaken with a start. Well I wake up with a start but also with an irrational fear that I've forgotten to take a very important pill. The sudden thought causes me to panic - my heart races out of my chest and I gasp for air as I search through drawers and pill packs. There was a pill. I forgot to take it. That's why I am not getting better. I forgot to take the pill.

I worked through my irrational night terror with my Pain Psychologist when I was in the thick of learning about my new disease. I had a lot of built-up anxiety about my diagnosis and it was manifesting itself every evening. Just as my body allowed itself to relax and drift off, my mind would scream"Not so fast!" forcing me to wake up and address the anxious thoughts in my head - in the form of non-existent pill searching.

I spent a lot of time working through my anxiety, incorporating strategies into my day to gain more control over my thinking, and address the worries that were consuming me. I worked through it and low and behold, the "Where's the pill" night terror disappeared from my nightly routine.

Or so I had thought.

Now wouldn't you know - guess what I have been busy doing around 10pm every night? That's right...searching drawers for the damn non-existent pill again!

I had thought that I wasn't really experiencing anxiety over this whole Covid-19 thing. I mean...it's unsettling.  It's a very strange time. But I don't feel particularly scared or anxious about it all. My days are pretty structured with work, exercise, dog walking, and TV watching. I'm not balled up on the couch crying my eyes out or anything like that. I'm taking good care of my body and thought that I was doing just fine. My brain, on the other hand, is telling me that I am, in fact, experiencing some anxiety by springing the whole "Where's the pill" night terror back into my life.

OK. I HEAR YOU. GOT IT. TIME TO CALM THE F DOWN.

So although I don't necessarily have Covid-specific anxiety, I think that the worries I am experiencing are amplified given the situation. Here's what's causing me concern this week:

1) Dundee has a degenerative valve disease in his heart. His heart function is deteriorating and it's been difficult to find the right combination and dosage of medications to maintain it. I spend many hours plotting Dundee's respiratory rate on the dog breathing app, and I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't be quite so obsessive about it if I could actually leave my damn house. I am super thankful that we have a Vet Extraordinaire who is available at all hours on Whatsapp. He has definitely helped to ease my anxiety.

2) I'm coming to terms with the fact that our annual summer trip back to Canada may not happen this year. It doesn't look like Cayman has any intention of re-opening our airport as long as the virus is alive and spreading anywhere near our border. The thought of not seeing my family and friends - especially my Grandma and my Baba makes me feel so incredibly sad. But...we shall see I guess.

3) Remember my super cool wakesurfing injury where I hurt my hand? Ya, well....after months of Physio, a splint for 6 weeks, and a quick trip to Philadelphia (pre-covid) to see the hand surgeon, it would appear as though I require tendon reconstruction surgery. But I mean, that's a future Kirstie problem, and as we all know, I'm pretty good at surgery. 😉

But it's OK. I have a plan. In addition to regular exercise (riding my bike and begging Candace Cameron Bure to acknowledge me on her live Insta workouts) and daily meditation (chanting "you've got to be f'n kidding me!" every time my Loom video drops me), I have decided to increase my Reality TV consumption!

Yes, I love reality TV. Yes, I am an intelligent, educated, and moderately successful woman. No, I am not ashamed. Shame me! Just try it. I don't give a care.

So many of my very intelligent, educated, and wildly successful female friends watch reality TV and feel shame. Don't feel shame, ladies! Reality television is actually very healthy. Here's why:

A recent study published in NeuroImage indicates that watching reality TV can trigger something called "vicarious embarrassment" in our brains. When we watch someone being humiliated, areas of the brain responsible for compassion, empathy, and the suppression of self-interest were activated because we can relate to those feelings of embarrassment. Therefore, watching Reality TV actually makes us more empathetic and less self-absorbed.

Ahhh - this is why I so enjoy watching Darcy from 90 Day Fiance ugly cry with each and every rejection she faces.  It all makes sense now.

Case closed. I am a better person for watching Reality Tv - and so are you, my smart successful friends!

Also, let's be honest - the people, situations, and experiences on these TV shows are basically the exact opposite of the mundane life that I am currently living. It's a great escape. I don't know about you, but I'm guessing we all need a good escape from our strange reality right now.

Cheers to Real Housewivin' Below Deckin' Vanderpumpin' Rulin' Bachelorin' and 90 Day fiance-ing all weekend long!

Darcy crying: Good RealityTV

Kirstie tearing a tendon - Bad Reality TV