WARRIORS UNITED

As many of you know, yesterday was a big day.  A huge day.  Yesterday was Tea Party with Michelle on Monday day!  And a couple of you are messaging me and saying “Did you do it?  Did you meet with Michelle? Tell us more, Wynette, we want to know everything about your Tea Party with Michelle!” And so I will, I will tell you more, but not everything because Me and my new friend Michelle have our secrets that are only for us.

First, the night before our tea party, I sent Michelle a message so that she would know how to find me at the Tea House.  Or at least I tried, but she never got my message because apparently I am still a Facebook Novice and don’t always get the comments and tagging and messaging parts right. Anyway, here is what I meant to send her: “Hi Michelle, I am so excited for our Tea Party tomorrow! My profile picture is old, but I kind of like it, and plus I’m too lazy to find a newer one that I like, so I keep it there, but it doesn’t really look like me very much anymore. I have long dark hair, no bangs, and I will be wearing a black shirt and jeans. (I’m a planner!) Unless, of course, you really do turn out to be a creepy stalker dude…in that case, I’m the cute little blond in the sundress…  See you tomorrow!” 

The first good news is that Michelle isn’t a creepy stalker dude so that is a huge relief! 

So, anyway I got to our agreed upon meeting place and was sitting at a table outside the tea house waiting.  I knew nothing about Michelle…tall/short, chubby/thin, young/old, Wheel Chair/Walking, Black/White, Male/Female (ok I guessed female, but one never knows for sure based on name alone). So I sat there with my black shirt and my jeans and my no bangs hair and I waited and I watched and I smiled at random strangers to see if they smiled back and some smiled but they kept on walking by…And then a woman walked up to the tea house and I thought that she might be my new friend Michelle because she had that sort of beachy surfer girl vibe. And I looked at her and she looked at me…and then she sat at a different table. But I forged ahead because I knew... I could sense it with my Wonder Woman Warrior Radar I think. And I said "Are you Michelle?"  And she answered “Yes!” and I said "I am Wynette!" And she tilted her head a little and looked at me funny for a second because she didn’t get my message about the black shirt and the no bangs so I said “Old picture…no bangs” And then her radar kicked in, and she knew too.  And then we hugged because we are huggers and then we were Warriors United.  

 We talked nervously for a few minutes, sort of like a first date, and then we said, let’s go get our tea! So we went in to get our tea but there was no tea at the tea store until 11 am and it wasn’t 11 am (apparently, unlike coffee,  tea is more of an afternoon event) so we wandered over to Whole Foods in search of tea for our tea party. We walked and we talked and then Michelle got water and I got Kombucha. Michelle said no Kombucha for her. Apparently, she forgot it was supposed to be a tea and not a water party, but that’s OK, I don’t judge. Maybe she had a little brain fog with all of the excitement of the day. Also, I think maybe Kombucha makes her burpy and she wanted to make a good impression on me, so no Kombucha. I don’t know for sure why she didn’t have Kombucha. I didn’t pry. You will have to ask her yourself.  That’s her story to tell.

And so we sat down with our water and our Kombucha and we shared our stories.  I told her mine and she told me hers…we talked symptoms, and diagnosis, and procedures and doctors. We talked family and friends and work and school. And we talked about our early Warrior days and where we currently are in our journeys. Each of us shared our journey. We shared our journeys and we gave each other a little glimpse of our crazy and we laughed and we laughed and we learned. And it was fun. I think that it turned out just as I had hoped.  I had hoped that she would like me as much as I hoped I would like her.  And I think we did. Like each other.  And before we knew it, our tea party was over.  As much as we both wanted to stay, there was work to be done, appointments to be kept, food to be prepared…life to be lived. So we exchanged numbers and we said our goodbyes, promising to do it all again soon.

I don’t know when our next Tea Party will be, but I hope it really will be soon. And I hope that more and more of our Warrior friends will be able to join us. But if not, if it is just Me and Michelle again next time, or every time, that will be OK too. Because we are connected now. We are friends. We are Wonder Women. We are Wahls Warriors. And Wahls Warriors are real.

We are Warriors United.

 

WARRIORS ARE REAL

When I was a little girl, around the age of 6 or 7,  I started questioning whether or not Santa was real.  So, I went to my sister since she is older and wiser about these things.  When I told her about my need for some evidence that Santa is out there, she said I should do the Santa Test.  And I said “What is the Santa test?” And she told me.  She told me to write a letter to Santa and not tell anyone that I wrote the letter or what the letter said. And then I should ask for something small and sneaky for Christmas that nobody would know I had asked for and I shouldn’t ask for that present from anybody else. Just from Santa.  And then I should be sneaky again and tape that envelope to the outside of my bedroom window so that the elves would come and get it and bring it to Santa.  My sister was apparently one super sneaky wise woman because that was a great plan.  And so I did. I wrote the letter and I asked for something that nobody would ever guess that I wanted. (My sister said it had to be small and easy so Santa could add it to my list without raising suspicion, so no Pony’s. That was fine since I don’t like riding horses anyway.) And then, I taped the letter to the outside of my window, and the next morning the envelope was gone! And then on Christmas morning, sure enough, that small gift that nobody but Santa knew about was right there under the tree. I had done the Santa Test, and Santa passed. And I knew for sure that Santa was real! 

Today, was a super huge day for me.  It was my tea party day with my new friend Michelle! I will tell you all about our amazing experience and our crazy adventure later, but suffice to say that we laughed and we shared our stories, and time and time again, we interrupted each other and said “Yes, Yes! That’s my crazy too!” OK, I was mostly the interrupter.  Michelle apparently is much more polite than me. She was probably raised better.   We had so much in common, and so much to share, but there was one thing we shared today that neither of us will ever be able to share with anyone else ever again.  For both of us, for both Me and Michelle, we were each others first.  Michelle was the first real live Wahls Warrior that I ever actually met in person and I was hers! True, we both have loved ones in our lives that have adopted the protocol along with us, but for both of us, for both Me and Michelle this was our first live, in person interaction with a Warrior that didn’t start their training along side us.  Someone we didn’t already know…before.  And there is something extra cool about that fact. The fact that we started this journey completely independently and now our paths have met.

Some people never doubt about Santa.  Not a bit. No test required. I believed, but I needed more.  Something more concrete…To know for sure. To know for sure, sometimes I need a test.  And Michelle was my Warrior test.  Don’t get me wrong, fellow Warriors, I believe that you are all out there…I picture you snapping on your bracelets and doing your Super Hero poses, but I needed more.  I needed something concrete to assure me that I’m not doing this alone.  And Michelle was my Wahls Warrior test, and I was hers.  We did the Warrior Test…We met in person.  And she was real. A real live in the flesh Wahls Warrior. Test passed. And her being real helps me know that you are all real too.  And so, I know now…without a doubt. I know for sure now that Warriors are real! 

Woot Woot!

STRIKE A POSE

I love Grey’s Anatomy.  It is one of my favorite shows.  I like all of the medical stuff and the site of blood and guts doesn’t bother me at all.  But, what really draws me to the show is the characters.  I like the characters because they are not afraid to share their crazy. And they do…Often.  Share their crazy.  They share it with each other and they share it with me. And I laugh and I cry and I learn. 

A few weeks ago, there was a scene where Dr. Amelia Shepherd is getting ready for a big, complicated surgery.  In the scene, she is standing there silently, feet spread, hands in fists placed on her hips, elbows wide, chest out, chin up, staring straight ahead.  And her intern comes in and looks at her and says “What is happening?”  Here is her response… "I’m being a Super Hero…There is a scientific study that shows that if you stand like this, in Super Hero pose, for 5 minutes before a job interview, or a big presentation, or a really hard task, you will not only feel more confident, you will perform measurably better…Seriously.” And so her intern joins her. Her intern stands next to her and together they stand in Super Hero pose.  And then Dr. Shepherd asks the intern if she feels it.  And the intern responds “We are Super Heroes”, to which Dr. Shepherd echoes back, “We are Super Heroes.” And then, as they silently stand there together in Super Hero pose, a voice in the background speaks these final words “Hold up your head, and enter the arena, and face the enemy. Fight until you can’t fight anymore…”

Wow…just wow.

I have a busy day today. A day where I could easily get overwhelmed or distracted or discouraged. A day when I could use a little extra resolve.  So, before I let the day get away from me, before I give the monster a chance to mess with me, I will stop.  I will stop and I will strike a pose…a Super Hero pose. And I will stand there for 5 minutes and then, when I am done, I will be ready. I will be ready to face the enemy. And I will be ready to fight.

We are Super Heroes.

SOUR MILK

My son opened a new gallon of milk last night.  He is still a dairy guy. He has cut back, but he is not fully weaned. He is still a work in progress. A Warrior under construction. Sometimes, to remind my kids that bovine milk or any animal based dairy products might not be their best option, I stoop to snarky comments.  “Oh, that frozen breast milk in a bowl looks so yummy, bud!” A timely comment like that takes just a little bit of the joy out of eating a bowl of ice cream, and that’s the point.  Because that’s what it is. Frozen breast milk.  Liquid forced out of the breast of a cow.  A liquid whose purpose and design is to help the young calf quickly gain lots weight.  About 500 pounds of weight in the first 7 months of life. Neat. We are the only mammals on the planet that continue to drink breast milk long after childhood. And the only ones that regularly raid another species for our supply. Milk may do somebody’s body good, but not my body…It does not do my body good.  And so I will leave it for the calves. Being a former lover of all things dairy, these are the things that I remind myself when I am having a moment. A weak moment. A moment when the monster is trying to tempt me into doing the things that make it stronger and make me weaker.  It reminds me that I am much better off when I do not help the monster. The monster does not need my help. Screw you monster. 

So, my son opened the new carton and had a drink and said “Mom, is this milk old?  I think there might be something wrong with it.” And I think, well of course there is something wrong with it Son, it is breast milk from a cow.  But, I exhibit great restraint and reply, What makes you think there is something wrong with it, Bud? “It tastes funny.” I’ll check it… And so I do. I smell the milk and I pour some into a cup to watch for chunks and I check the expiration date and it all looks and smells normal to me. I tell my Son all of my scientific testing has come back negative for any problems, so he will just have to rely on his own taste buds.  “Well, if it’s bad, couldn’t it make me sick?” I think to myself it's milk, Son it already is making you sick, but again, I play nice because I am busy and distracted and frankly not that interested in his milk dilemma and so I reply…Well Bud, think of it as yogurt. Yogurt is sort of like bad milk.  He is unconvinced. “Can’t you just taste it?” Nope. “Just a little to see if it’s bad?” Nope. “I’m not going to drink it unless I know for sure it’s not bad.” That’s fine son, you don’t have to drink it.  “But isn’t that a waste of money and isn’t that the expensive milk?” Yes and yes.  “But you still won’t taste it.” A statement, not a question this time. And I think, now you are getting it, Son.  And I respond that I won’t taste it because I don’t cheat. Ever.  Not even a little. “Oh that’s right” he says, knowing his battle has been lost, “You won’t even take a tiny taste of the milk because you are a Waaaahls Warrior, right Wynette?” That’s right boy, now leave me alone. I have bracelets to polish.