Life is worth living

Life is something that I once lived at a million miles an hour.  As I ran through each day attempting to complete as many tasks as possible in the 24 hours that I was given, I hardly ever saw the flowers, let alone stopped to smell them. And they were there of course, the flowers, in the morning with dew drops sparkling in the sun, attempting to grasp my attention that I would stop the mad rush that was my life and take in their beauty, if only for a minute. The birds were in the trees, softly chirping each day, waiting to lift my spirit, to say good morning, but yet my mind was so rushed with the details of the day that I did not hear them. The rain that falls daily for months in Thailand was but an annoyance, a hindrance to the things that needed to be done, rather than a refreshing break from the rat race. It should have been a reminder that life is not about how much we can accomplish in the shortest amount of time, but rather a journey that we continue every day - one with birds and flowers and refreshing rainfall that are waiting to speak to our souls. 

In the rush we do not see, we do not smell, we do not comprehend the beauty of the world around us – the beauty that whispers to our soul. True beauty does not shout, it whispers to our soul, and to hear it our soul must stop and be still. The rain may bring the rainbow, but we will not hear the promises that it has for us if we do not go outside to see it. Not just to look at it, but to truly see its beauty: the kind that cannot be captured by a photograph, the kind that cannot be shared online. The kind of beauty that is whispered by a rainbow and a sunset must be experienced by one’s soul – and we cannot do that from behind the screens of our computers, or with our minds full of to-do lists. We cannot appreciate the beauty of life from the traffic jams of the highways of busyness. Sometimes, we must be forced to stop so that we don’t trample on the roses that have been placed there for us to smell.

The question when we discover this secret, the secret of the whispering that does not shout loud enough to drown out the playlist that we have playing on our headphones, is once we discover that the roses are there, once we have stopped to smell them, and seen the beauty of the sunlight reflecting off of the morning dew, how do we reprogram ourselves so that we live our lives to become constantly aware of the whispering, rather than being rescued occasionally from the rat-race by it? How do we teach our children that life is for living, for setting our souls on fire with the hidden beauty that has been created especially for each one of us to experience? How do we show them in this age of eyes constantly on smartphones, that sometimes the beauty that someone else needs is as simple as a smile from a stranger on their commute home from a difficult day in the office? That in fact, they are the beauty that someone else may need at this very moment. How do we help them to understand that the life that we live on social media is not in fact real life, and that real life is the one that we experience with our senses? Real life is the one where the beauty that God has created for us makes us feel free, despite all of the expectations that others have of us, or in fact that we have for ourselves.

These revelations do not come cheaply. For some of us, we must be forced to stop and look. For me, stopping did not come voluntarily. A near death experience, a rare disease diagnosis, a month long hospital stay – a much needed reality check for someone who thought they were already living life to the full. Six months later, it is the difficult days, the ones that I can barely get out of bed that bless me the most. It is those days when I can hear and see and smell and touch the beauty that God has for me the most. On the days that I am strong, which are increasingly frequent these days, I am tempted to forget the lessons that I have learnt through the struggle. I put in my earphones with my playlist and work through my to-do list. I forget to listen for the birds in the morning and run to finish my workout and carry on my day rather than to see the morning sun on the wildflowers and rice fields. It is on my weak days, the ones where I take a slow walk with my daughter to the park to hear her laugh as I push her on the swing, that I am reminded that fast is not always better. More is often less. Strong, in fact, is my weakness.

So the question, how can I teach my children the lessons that I have learnt, and how do I continue to walk in them as I get stronger? It is a journey, but it must be lived. It must be modelled. It is not something that can be taught, it must be seen, experienced.  We must discover it for ourselves, and we must determine not to lose the insight that we gain. And, when we do lose sight of life’s beauty, which we inevitably will at times, we must learn to quiet our souls and hear life’s beauty whispering to us through the quiet still breeze across the ocean. Life is worth living. Life is worth living and it is beautiful- but it will not shout to get our attention. The whispers are everywhere if only we will stop for long enough to listen to them. 
                                

International Rare Diseases Day

In my almost 8 years of being a parent, I have always been pretty relaxed about childhood illnesses and injuries. Sniffles and stomachaches and chicken pox are all a part of being a kid. Most kids get at least one set of stitches at some point, and maybe a broken limb or some torn ligaments. My most recent trip to the Emergency Room involved my daughter having to have her tongue stitched up after she went down the slide at the playground a little too fast and bit her tongue as she reached the bottom. My kids are accident prone, but also pretty brave. The doctor wanted to put my daughter under general anesthetic to stitch her tongue but she was having none of it and was sure she could lie still while he stitched it up for her in the ER. She was right, she sat still, got stitched up and was still able to be Snow White in her schools kindergarten production the following week.

Both of my kids are pretty similar when it comes to these things and I was the same as a kid. I tore the ligaments in my ankle in primary school trying to prove to myself that I could jump down an entire flight of stairs. I was on crutches for a couple of weeks, but I remember being pretty proud of myself that I had made it all the way to the bottom step from the top. My sons soccer coach tells me that he has the ideal personality to be a goalie because he doesn't think about getting hurt and just throws himself around the goal without much consideration of what could happen to him. 

However, in September when I discovered that I have Granulomatosis with polyangiitis (GPA), every childhood sniffle and ache was suddenly not just a sniffle or an ache. I am so thankful that I only developed GPA as an adult but I have seen children as young as my own receiving chemotherapy at the same time as me for similar diseases to mine. I cannot imagine what it must be like as an 8 year old to have to live through what I am living through. As a mom, I take every complaint seriously now. I know that not everything is serious and that most things will never develop into much more than a sniffle, but now that my eyes have been opened to the world of rare diseases I can't help but collect every health complaint that my kids have somewhere in my memory in case one day it is a piece of information that could save their lives. 

The 29th of February 2016 is International Rare Diseases Day. If you had told me that a year ago it wouldn't have meant much to me. I'm pretty sure I couldn't even have named one rare disease. There are over 6,000 rare diseases that are known about, and many of them affect young children. Rare diseases need very special doctors - not doctors that think they are knowledgeable, but doctors that are willing to say 'I don't know'. I had a very special team of doctors that helped with my diagnosis, and one of the reasons why I was diagnosed in time was because many of them, highly qualified and experienced specialists in their own field had to say day after day, 'I don't know'. They were humble and willing to admit that they didn't know what was wrong with me and couldn't treat me, but referred me on to someone else who could. My rheumatologist is the doctor that diagnosed me, and I am the only patient that she has ever met with GPA. I list my symptoms for her every time I see her and together we have to try and figure out whether they are related to my disease or not. When she started treating me, she brought her iPad into the ICU and explained the course of treatment by showing my family and I articles from the Vasculitis foundation in the UK. I am a case study of the resident pulmonologist and another one of the doctors who is currently studying to complete his specialization in rheumatology. 

Do you know someone with a rare disease? Do you have a healthy child that, like my two children, doesn't have to worry much about sniffles and chicken pox because they are just a normal part of childhood? This 29th of February, why not participate in helping to raise awareness in some small way? Rare Diseases South Africa runs a project called the 'rare bear project'. You can purchase a bear for a child who has a rare disease in South Africa and it will get delivered to them. So even if you don't personally know someone with a rare disease you can touch the life of a child who may be fighting a very difficult fight.

In South Africa you can have your school participate in the coloring contest to support rare diseases. Find out how you can get involved in your community to help raise awareness -http://www.rarediseaseday.org/.

Do you know someone that aspires to be a doctor one day? Encourage them to be the kind of doctor that is willing to say, 'I don't know but lets find out together'. We could all use more doctors like mine in the medical field - one day you too may need a special doctor to stand by your side and learn together with you.

To all the kids with rare diseases who aspire to be Snow Whites and soccer goalies but can't because of the limits of their disease - never give up dreaming, and may you too find your special doctor who believes in you and fights your disease together with you. And to the parents - be brave and never give up hope.