Radiating with Positivity Through the Trials of Living with Multiple Chronic Conditions

A chronic condition is a health issue, illness, or disease that causes ongoing symptoms that interfere with daily life. A person living with chronic conditions will continue to need treatment and medical attention during the duration of the illness or disease.

At the publication of this blog post, I am living with four known chronic conditions: generalized anxiety disorder, degenerative disc disease, gastroesophageal reflux disease, and irritable bowel syndrome. All are quite common, and thankfully, none of them are currently so severe that I can’t live a normal lifestyle. However, they are all expected to be lifelong. As a young twenty-five-year-old, this really worries me. If I live to be old, wrinkly, and gray, I have a lot of years ahead of me that will be spent managing pain. Each chronic issue provides countless irritating and unfortunate obstacles to hurdle over almost daily.

But please notice, as I explain my symptoms, grumble about the hardships, and express exasperation about the medical requirements that come with these conditions, a bright light source is visible through the negativity. It’s negativity’s antithesis, positivity. Positivity is my bright beacon of hope that guides me in a sun-shining direction. With an optimistic attitude, my life is beautiful, fulfilling, and joyful despite the pain and suffering. And anyway, suffering is what it means to be human, what brings us all together. Once you can accept this and view pain and suffering through a softer, kinder perspective, you can learn how to be a more positive person and increase positivity throughout your life.

Generalized Anxiety Disorder is chronic, irrational worry and anxiety that has plagued me my entire life. Treatment for this disorder has taken many different shapes in the past and present, as I discuss in My Mental Health Treatment Journey. Currently, I’m using cognitive behavioral therapy methods I’ve learned from therapists over the years, combined with many forms of self care, breathing techniques, meditation, mindfulness, exercise, and a healthy diet to combat the negative thoughts that often cloud my mind. Anxiety will be with me forever; I’ve accepted her, and I now embrace her with loving arms. Anxiety is a part of me, and I know how to live a happy and fulfilling life in tandem with her. Regardless, she can sure be nasty when she wants to be. She can make daily life a lot scarier and very challenging at times.

Due to the traumas of my past that involve serious surgeries and losing loved ones at a young age, I’ve developed an intense fear of dying young or developing a serious health condition that could threaten my existence. Health anxiety, or hypochondria, is the foundation of much of my worrying. My paranoia is built on the fear of dying. Anything that threatens my well-being triggers my anxiety, which is why I live a very healthy lifestyle. I am constantly being confronted face-to-face with my biggest fears because the three other chronic conditions I suffer from make me very susceptible to hardships within the health department.

It’s pretty easy to dwell on the dismal fact that for me, having physical chronic conditions amplifies my mental chronic condition so that I must endure occasional icy hot panic attacks and so that I am always prepared for the worst. My mind is skilled at thinking through horrific “what if” scenarios that involve terminal illness, death, pain, and hopelessness. It’s a habit I’ve formed because there have been many times in the past when I’ve sat in a stark white room with a white-coated doctor looking solemnly at me as they diagnose me with a new disorder, suggest surgery, and schedule MRIs, ultrasounds, blood tests, and minimally invasive procedures to test for concerning issues. I’ve been conditioned to expect thirty-plus doctor appointments a year, a surgery or procedure every few years, and vials of blood to leave my body often because this is normal for me. Health issues are a big reason my generalized anxiety disorder has primarily turned into health anxiety. Symptoms are always present, and countless new issues are always popping up. If I didn’t have good medical insurance, which I am so very grateful for, I would be in trouble. 

But on the bright, shiny side, constantly being thrown into battle with my biggest fears is allowing me to overcome my anxiety. Overtime, I become familiar with feeling uncomfortable, and I notice that I grow stronger mentally year after year. I don’t bat an eyelash when I’m poked with needles. I am no longer afraid of being inside an MRI machine, even though I fear being trapped. Confronting superiors is no longer an issue for me; I know exactly how to search for doctors within my insurance network, how to keep doctors and nurses in busy offices on task and in contact with me, and how to speak to medical staff. I’ve become quite educated on how to diagnose myself, when to research my symptoms and when not to, how to decipher medical test results, and how to listen and speak to others who also suffer.

I’ve learned to have patience, which is an absolute requirement for chronic illness sufferers. Because I’ve noticed that my conditions have allowed me to overcome certain fears, I’ve applied the same method to other areas of my life. I used to have an intense fear of getting lost and traveling alone, so I started taking solo trips and going on hikes without a GPS. I am comfortable with being uncomfortable, and this is absolutely life-changing for a GAD sufferer. Anxiety has almost become my friend because I’ve taken the time to get to know her. 

Degenerative disc disease is osteoarthritis of the spine and results in the breakdown of my discs. Though this almost always happens with age, the doctors have compared the condition of my lower back to that of a sixty-year-old with this condition. DDD exists in my lumbar spine because when I was sixteen, I had a spinal fusion that fused ten vertebrae together. With two rods, twenty bolts and screws, and a nice padding of cadaver bones holding my thoracic spine in place, the duty to bend, move, and support my body falls to the remaining discs on either side of the unmoving bone that is the trunk of my spine.

I chose to run track for nine years, run half marathons and 5ks for two, and participate in strenuous activities because I have a love for adventure, the outdoors, and sports. Constant pounding is terrible for joints that are tearing down and losing strength. If I had known when I was younger what I was doing to myself, maybe I wouldn’t have decided to become a D1 athlete or a mid-distance runner. Perhaps I wouldn’t have done gymnastics from the ages of six through fifteen. But then again, at what point do we give up what we love because of what might be in the future? Very tough.

Though I gained an inch and a half of height during the scoliosis-correcting surgery, I’ve managed to lose half an inch of height since then because my discs have lost quite a bit of cushioning. There is not much room between my vertebrae anymore. The consequences of having this condition (for me, at least) are chronic aching and stabbing pain, numbness, tingling, muscle spasms, headaches, stiff joints, bulging discs, a hunched back, and more. Most of these symptoms only arise when I’m “flared up,” but it doesn’t take much anymore to send my body into a mild or moderate flare up. When the more rare severe flare ups come, I’m drugged up with anti-inflammatories, steroids, pain meds, and muscle relaxers. I’m not walking any further than the end of the driveway. I’m lying in bed, and I’m repeating this shit for weeks and sometimes for months.

Irritable bowel syndrome and gastroesophageal reflux disease plague my digestive system because I had a cholecystectomy (the removal of my gallbladder) when I was twenty-one. Apparently, sludge and a benign polyp had formed in this organ, causing it not to function properly anymore. The solution to the extreme bloating, constipation, gas, and pain was to get that poorly-functioning little guy out of there! But there are consequences to having the gallbladder removed. This organ acts as a valve to regulate bile that breaks down fats. My liver has learned to do this independently without the gallbladder, which is why we don’t necessarily need this organ. But now, the bile duct that remains just dangles freely in my body and is known to become an inflamed issue later on in life. Nowadays, if I am not sticking to a perfectly clean, immaculate, healthy-as-shit diet, I suffer. This is a weird blessing in disguise because I’ll likely never be overweight, which means I’m less at risk for serious chronic conditions like heart disease or cancer. I’m not sure if my body will ever have the ability to gain much fat because it has so much trouble breaking down that substance. Seriously, a serving of French fries results in undigested, radioactive yellow-green poop. Yep, sorry for that, but yep. 

If I want to enjoy the present and indulge in a beloved cup of coffee, a few glasses of wine, a chocolate dessert, or an acidic tomatoey, cheesy pizza, my chronic conditions become inflamed raging bulls and charge at my lower and upper abdomen without holding back.

IBS affects the lower digestive tract and results in the chronic back-and-forth game of diarrhea and constipation. Naturally, gas, bloating, and sometimes tear-inducing pain accompany them. GERD affects the stomach, esophagus, and throat. Burning pain is prevalent when acid is regurgitated up into my esophagus. I am careful to avoid eating several hours before going to bed because it acts up more when I lie down. Recently, GERD has been becoming more intense for me, so I’ve been doing what I do best by going to a series of doctor appointments to determine if there is anything more I can do to prevent pain. I had to wait three months to see a gastro specialist who told me to just keep doing what I was doing and to also take Omeprazole every day for the rest of my life. Gee, thanks for the help, doc. I waited one month longer to see a second doctor who gave me a helpful and detailed list of foods to eat and avoid and how many grams of fiber and other important nutrients to eat daily. She suggested various natural and medicinal ways to cope with my condition, and she also scheduled three blood tests, an ultrasound of my bile duct to check for stones, and an endoscopy to check for ulcers, a hernia, or anything else that might be causing my increased pain. So, this next week is going to be funnnn…. 

And this is how life works as a chronic illness sufferer. We go to the doctor to schedule four more doctor visits or procedures. We wait for our results, and then we move forward from there. This is my normal, and this is why I have become a patient person, much like my very patient mama!

Most maddeningly, all of these conditions intersect with each other, often worsening each other. It’s like they are all siblings, constantly bickering. When one issue flares up, the others have smart, aggravating retorts to make as they egg each other on. DDD and IBS both affect my lower back and abdomen, which are right next to each other. When I’m constipated or experiencing diarrhea, the inflammation often extends to my back, which magnifies the pain significantly. The more pain I feel, the more anxious I become. The more anxious I become, the more stressed I feel, which causes an increase in acid production in the stomach. And that’s when the GERD flares up and causes burning stomach and esophagus pain. I treat DDD pain by lying down, yet lying down causes acid reflux symptoms. I also treat DDD with anti-inflammatories and steroids, which aggressively aggravate my stomach lining. Exercise improves my digestive system and mental health, but increases back pain during flare ups. Isn’t this just the best?

Suffering from pain almost constantly has changed my perspective in so many ways. It has made me think about all the people who suffer from so much worse than I do and how brave and strong they are. It has led me to practice the art of gratitude daily. It has forced me to live a healthy lifestyle. It has morphed me into a compassionate, loving human who strives to help others. These health conditions are most definitely a weakness of mine because they hold me back in many ways and require me to make sacrifices. But I’ve managed to turn these weaknesses into superpowers by simply shifting my mindset, by spreading awareness on pain, suffering, and mental health, by normalizing these topics that are not often spoken about, and by connecting with others who suffer from similar issues. 

If you suffer from a chronic health issue, you are not alone, and I recognize what you have to go through every day. You’re a damn warrior, so take a moment to give yourself a congratulatory hug. Sending love!

Mental Health Blog Disclaimer

I am not a medical professional, therapist, or mental healthcare professional. The information provided on this website is for informational purposes only, comes from my own personal experiences, and may be read, interpreted, and practiced at your own risk. Do not rely on this information as a substitute to medical advice or treatment from a healthcare professional.