Today felt like a quiet turning of a page rather than a dramatic chapter break. No fireworks. No miracle cure. Just intention, breath, and the gentle decision to meet my body where it actually lives.

I started self-guided gentle movement PT, along with mindful journaling and meditation. Paired with my ongoing CBT, this feels like a way forward for the parts of my health that traditional medicine can no longer wrangle on its own. Not everything is fixable. Some things are only manageable. I am learning to respect that distinction without grieving it every day, recognizing that acceptance is a crucial component of my journey. Each day presents its own challenges, and while I may not have the power to cure certain aspects of my health, I can still cultivate a sense of agency in how I navigate them.

With my physical therapy sessions and the comprehensive pain management program that I signed up for through my husband’s workplace, I will also start using a portable mini TENS unit, which is specifically designed for convenient daily use. This unit will provide targeted electrical stimulation to help alleviate pain throughout the day, allowing me to manage discomfort more effectively. By integrating this innovative device into my routine, I aim to not only reduce the intensity of my pain but also to enhance my overall quality of life. It’s an exciting step towards achieving better control over my symptoms and promoting a more active lifestyle, which I have been longing for.

I am also researching an additional wearable device, something that can alert me when a new symptom begins and remind me to sit down or pause before it escalates. The aim is to create a bridge between my physical sensations and my response to them. Because sometimes my body whispers before it shouts, and I want to get better at listening to the whisper. These subtle signals are often easy to overlook in the hustle of daily life, but I’m beginning to realize their importance in maintaining my well-being. [Looking at Visible and Hume at the moment. If anyone has a better suggestion, let me know. I also looked at Quell which takes a prescription from your doctor.]

Around Thanksgiving, I started wearing a smart ring, mostly out of curiosity about its capabilities and how it might enhance my understanding of my physiological responses. What it has shown me has been truly eye-opening. For instance, I’ve discovered that when I stand up, my heart rate doesn’t just politely adjust to accommodate my new position; it launches dramatically. This response isn’t subtle by any means; it’s a noticeable jump that can fluctuate anywhere from 14 beats to sometimes over 40 beats per minute.

For context, my resting heartbeat averages between 70-80 beats per minute. However, upon standing up from sitting or even standing too long, I find myself hit with a heartbeat that quickly escalates to anywhere in the range of 90-120 beats per minute. Just the other day, the highest it spiked to was 141 beats per minute—all from simply standing. It’s worth mentioning that I am currently battling strep throat, which undoubtedly adds another layer of complexity to my condition. The same alarmingly heightened heart rate occurs when I simply bend over and stand back up, indicating that my body is responding with greater intensity than I had previously realized. This experience highlights how intricately connected our bodies are to our daily actions, often in ways we might underappreciate or overlook until we have data to inform us.

Taken together with my other symptoms, this data-driven approach has led part of healthcare team and me to consider POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) as a viable possibility. It’s important to note that it’s not merely one symptom pointing in that direction. Instead, it’s a constellation of symptoms, each playing a unique role, and their interplay paints a fuller picture of what is happening within my body. This collective insight has prompted not only a sense of curiosity but also a compelling drive to understand how to manage these symptoms more effectively.

I am wholeheartedly committed to seeking knowledge in this area, exploring potential adjustments in my daily routine, and genuinely listening to what my body is communicating. The more informed I am about my condition and its symptoms, the more equipped I feel to navigate this ongoing experience with compassion, resilience, and grace. Taking this proactive approach empowers me to advocate for myself and make choices that not only foster my well-being but also enhance my understanding of this intricate body I live in. In a world where wellness can often feel elusive, having the means to decode my body’s signals is an invaluable asset, and I cherish every opportunity to learn from it.

• I have always craved salty foods more than sweets.
• I get dizzy after standing too long, sometimes followed by nausea
• Chronic fatigue is a constant companion
• My balance is unreliable
• I get shaky, internally and externally
• I experience random sharp chest pains we long assumed were costochondritis
• And at times my heartbeat and blood flow are so loud I can hear them in my ears, making it hard for me to relax or sleep.

When you line those things up, they stop looking random.

I will be discussing this with my doctors and figuring out where to go from here. No dramatic declarations. Just thoughtful observation, collected data, and informed conversations.

On a hopeful note, I have added a few more pieces to my home gym, and with the switch to Taltz and Mounjaro, I can feel my energy slowly starting to return. “Slowly” is the key word. This process, much like building a muscle, requires patience and consistency. I am grateful for every flicker of it, even though it is still far from where I want to be. The small victories count, reminding me that progress, however incremental, is still progress.

I have also made peace with the idea that I may never have a “normal” energy level. Instead, I will have higher-capacity days and quieter days, and I am learning to build my life around that rhythm rather than fighting it. This shift in perspective has been challenging but rewarding—it allows me to embrace the ebbs and flows of my energy and to establish a more compassionate relationship with myself. I often remind myself that it’s okay to take things slowly, that rest and recovery are paramount to my overall health and well-being.

The last few months have been physically brutal. After traveling with my husband for his family, my immune system seemed to give up the ghost. Ear infections. A throat infection. Flu A. And now strep, which I am still fighting while on antibiotics. I am worn out. Sick. Drained. It’s as if my body is in a constant battle, and every day can feel like an uphill struggle. Yet, through this, I’ve learned the importance of listening to my body’s signals and allowing myself the grace to recuperate.

But I am still here. Still trying. Still looking for a functional me that I can live with, care for, and honor. I have begun to see this journey not just as a series of setbacks but as a transformative experience that urges me to discover deeper aspects of who I am and who I aspire to be. I often reflect on my strength and resilience, recognizing that being “functional” encompasses more than physical vitality; it includes emotional and mental well-being as well.

This is not about returning to “normal.”
This is about building a sustainable, compassionate version of life in the body I have. This journey is uniquely mine, and while it may diverge from the traditional notions of health and vitality, it is rich with personal growth and self-discovery. Each day presents new opportunities to redefine what wellness means to me, aligning my lifestyle choices with my current capabilities and aspirations.

And if you would like to walk this stretch of the road with me, here are a few offerings. I invite you to join me in exploring various strategies for supporting our well-being, whether through sharing resources, engaging in uplifting conversations, or finding comfort in the company of those who understand our struggles. Together, we can create a community of encouragement and accountability, fostering a space where we uplift one another through all the ups and downs.

---

Mindful Journal Prompt

Use this during a quiet moment. No perfection required. Messy honesty is welcome.

Prompt:

What does “a functional me” look like today, not at my best, not at my worst, but right here in the middle?

What do I actually have the energy for, and what can I gently release without guilt?

How can I support my body today instead of pushing it?

Optional follow-ups:

• What signals did my body send me today?
• Did I listen, ignore, or negotiate with them?
• What is one compassionate choice I can make tomorrow?

---

A Gentle Grounding Meditation (5–7 minutes)

Find a comfortable seat or lie down. Let your hands rest where they feel natural.

1. Breathe
Inhale slowly through your nose for a count of four.
Exhale through your mouth for a count of six.
Repeat this rhythm a few times, letting your shoulders soften.

2. Notice Without Judgment
Scan your body from head to toe.
Where do you feel tension?
Where do you feel ease?
You are not here to fix anything. Only to notice.

3. Anchor to the Present
Silently name three things you can feel.
The chair beneath you.
The air on your skin.
The rise and fall of your breath.

4. Offer Yourself Compassion
Repeat quietly or aloud:

My body is not the enemy.
My pace is allowed to change.
Progress can be gentle.
I honor what I have today.

5. Close with Intention
Take one final slow breath in.
And release it with the thought:

I move forward with patience and care.

---

If you are navigating chronic illness, fatigue, neurodivergence, grief, or simply the messy reality of being human, you are welcome here. This space is created for you, a reminder that you are not behind in any race of life. Life does not have a set timeline or a predefined path, and everyone journeys through their unique experiences.

You are not broken. The struggles you face do not define your worth or your potential. In times of difficulty, it can feel as though we are shards of glass, scattered and fragmented. However, just like glass can be reshaped and repurposed into something beautiful, so too can our experiences lead to new forms of resilience and strength.

You are adapting, day by day, moment by moment. This adaptation, though subtle and often unnoticed, is a powerful testament to your ability to navigate the complexities of life. Every small step you take, every adjustment you make, contributes to your growth and understanding of yourself and the world around you.

And adaptation, in its own quiet way, is powerful. It’s not always loud or grand; it can be a whisper that pushes you forward when the weight of the world feels too heavy. Embracing the journey, with all its ups and downs, is a sign of courage and tenacity. Your experience may be messy, but within that mess lies the potential for healing, learning, and transforming. You are not alone in this; together, we can find strength in our shared experiences and create spaces of understanding and compassion.

Much love and many blessings,
Mrs. B