you can run...but you can't hide.

ok, so anyone who knows me knows that i deal with a peculiar ailment from time to time. i once even had a pot luck celebration in its honor. i'm talking about good ol' gastroparesis.

the quick recap: i was diagnosed almost 4 years ago. it's been an exhausting/encouraging/enlightening battle that i feel like (most days) i am winning. i keep it under control with the help of medication and i've been in "remission" for about 2 years (meaning my symptoms are usually absent from day-to-day life and my diet is not that limited, compared to the months following my diagnosis).

here's the thing.

about a year ago, i realized that my stomach was getting way too much attention. it had its own name at one point. my friends, all-amazing that they are, frequently asked about my digestive health. i started to feel defined by this illness. and i started to run, not literally (at first), but i wanted nothing to do with the labels that come with GP.

weak. sick. frail. needy.

(i know now, in my older and wiser state, that these labels did not have life outside of my own mind. they simply are not true for me and for many others with gastroparesis.)

i come from a fairly charismatic background in my faith and i often joked in college that you have to "name and claim" your blessings. now i'm not so sure about this theology (?), but i did know that i no longer wanted to claim this illness. i didn't even want to speak it out-loud. it became the thing that should not be named.

and since i was in remission, it was fairly easy to dodge this bullet and any conversation associated with it.

until two weeks ago.

since the beginning of january, i've been engaged in a full-on mission to take care of my body. i've been exercising at least 5 times a week (i've started jogging! yay!), weighing my food to watch portion sizes, and eating A LOT of fiber & other good-for-you food items.

since i've been in remission, i thought i could just up the ante with my fiber/fresh vegetable intake and no one would be the wiser. i had been eating salads every now and then. why not throw in a few more? granola bars and i were BFFs. whole wheat was my motto.

my stomach had other thoughts. all of that über-healthy eating finally caught up to me and i had to realize that while oats are good and tolerable for me, there are limits to this love.

nausea is no bueno.

it's been slightly heart-breaking and humbling. it was so sad to shop for the foods i once purchased after my diagnosis. jell-o. WHITE toast. WHITE mashed potatoes. chicken noodle soup that did not contain whole wheat pasta.

i am realizing that i need to learn that it's OK to eat semolina pasta (in small amounts). the world and my weight-loss journey will not stop because of it. it's OK to eat potatoes that are not orangey-sweet in variety. fresh vegetables can still live in my fridge, as long as they only come out to play a few times a week.

it's all OK. i know this set-back is temporary. i know my healing is still intact. i believe the Lord is continuing to fix what is broken.

as much as i may want to deny my diagnosis, running from it has some pretty awful side effects. and while i am NOT defined by this illness, i can't ignore what my body tells me.

more than that, i can't ignore what God tells me. yes, i have a crazy stomach. and yes, i am in remission (hallelujah). however, He is still in control. and i am still called to take care of my temple the best way i can -- and that means with a SMART head about me.

i also think it's no coincidence that the words associated with GP have been creeping back into my life. i missed a lot of work last week because of my overdose on all-things-bran. and i had to humbly ask a co-worker for assistance. i was forced to admit my illness (again) to which she responded with the utmost grace.

then i had a dear friend slip me this article that appeared in Richmond Magazine. it led me to this blog. and i feel like i have found a friend, though i've never met her. i know i am not alone. even within the confines of my small city in virginia.

so, i may not fully "claim" gastroparesis on the daily, but i do know that it's still there. i am still dealing with its effects from time to time. it's not a bad word.

more than anything? i am conquering it. one bran muffin at a time.

(but not more than twice a week.)

just sayin'.

rockin' it out.

soooo, i teach a public school autism program.

i absolutely love my job. (except for that pesky legal paperwork. pshaaaw.)

why do i adore my current career path?

i laugh. everyday.

commence examples:

* one of my four boys has a strong affinity for all-things social studies. ask him anything about japan or the mariana trench or george washington carver, and he's your basic walking encyclopedia. give him some MATH problems, however, and we are on the verge of a nervous breakdown, complete with hand gestures and small groans.

no matter. he told me just last week that with all of this addition/multiplication practice i am giving him, he is "destined to be a great mathmagician." this is also the same child who has a new obsession with "papua new ga-lin-ee"

* many kids with autism engage in "TV talk" throughout life. when they can't find the words they want/need, they revert to someone else's -- usually from television or movies. my guy is no exception and most of his communication comes in this form. some favorite moments:

walking to the bus one afternoon, my guy grabs my hand and with a super-serious look on his face says, "ms. x -- did you know that 15 minutes can save you 15 percent or more on car insurance?" not what i was expecting, to say the least.

this same guy and i were sitting outside on a bench one day, waiting for his classmates. a recognizable orange van drove by and i immediately hear, clear as a bell and in that familiar jingle, "call 1-800-steamer!"

he also likes to stand up and yell, "DING-A-LING!" while pointing to the ceiling during the quietest of moments in class -- startling everyone to pieces, while he sits back down and giggles like a mad scientist.

* another of my boys likes to "rock it out" everyday -- meaning he engages in calming, self-stimulatory behavior in the form of rocking back and forth in his chair. during this time, he usually likes to sing. his favorite song to belt out? "put your records on" by corinne bailey rae. i almost die every time his sweet voice gets to "you go ahead, let your hair doooooown"

* the last of my four boys has some serious pent-up energy and if i don't allow for him to "get the energies out" at least once a day, we are headed down a rough road. my solution? we put on the song "dog days are over" after lunch and run around the room like crazed people. it's absolutely fantastic. and after our last session with florence + the machine, this little guy sat down, put his head in his hands and exclaimed, "the energies are gone. time to go home."

they have captured my heart. and i wish i could record our conversations to save for a rainy day.

for now, i'll make do with a few memories of my boys, in all of their quirky glory.