Nothing like moving your worldly possessions a few hundred miles to make you realize what is important in your life. Hold each item you own in your hands one by one and ask yourself, "is this worth paying a moving company to relocate?"
Feels really, really good to downsize and clear out items that have been hiding in corners.
Who needs a breadmaker when one has two hands and a love for the feel of bread dough between her fingers?
Who needs a mixmaster when one has a whisk and large mixing bowl and loves to feel egg whites forming a peak?
And this self-proclaimed bookworm cleared out the library to make room for new reads and new adventures.
Looking forward to living in North Vancouver with the Pacific Ocean in my "front yard" and the north shore mountains in my "back yard."
SCUBA dive shop picked out, mountain bike trails scoped out, and kayaking destinations on the map. Can't wait...
See you on the trails,
Barb
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Cumberland Countdown
Training has begun for MOMAR Cumberland in September. I missed my mountain bike over the winter, let me tell you. I'm hopeful the crash en route to last fall's Cumberland race didn't damage the frame and render my bike useless for off-road riding. I will have to have my favorite local bike shop (Ruckus Skis, Boards and Bikes in PG) give it the once over to see if it will survive off-road training and the race itself.
Missed my trail runners, too. Feels good to be moving. My ribcage and spine are not happy but I'm going to hurt anyways so it might as well be from training.
See you on the trails,
Barb
Missed my trail runners, too. Feels good to be moving. My ribcage and spine are not happy but I'm going to hurt anyways so it might as well be from training.
See you on the trails,
Barb
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Seven years.
Yesterday afternoon I wrote the last final exam of my undergraduate career - fingers crossed I passed everything.
I wrote all of my exams at the Disability Services Centre - having inflammatory arthritis means the fingers don't always work as well as they should so part of my accommodation was the use of a computer for exams. Writing at the DSC also allowed me the chance to go for leg stretches to ease any stiffness that can occur while sitting for a three hour long exam.
As my cohorts wrote the exam in the evening - I feel for anyone who has to write a 6pm exam - in order to maintain exam integrity I was "held" at the DSC until 6:15pm which meant hanging out with the amazing ladies who work at the DSC for the very last time. I'll miss these ladies, let me tell you. They have been my advocates for disability awareness, my shoulders to cry on when I needed support, and my friends when I needed a laugh. I could not have completed this degree without them. Thanks ladies!
Seven years. Well eight if you count the year off I took while working for the BC Conservation Corps and subsequent winter semester taking anthropology and archaeology courses for self-interest as I missed all of the fall semester prerequisites. But really it's been seven years.
Earlier this academic year several of the degree programs at UNBC underwent an independent review and student feedback into our degree program was welcome. I joined several of my cohorts from the fish and wildlife program as we expressed our concerns and offered suggestions on how the program could be improved. During this session one of the facilitators asked how long it took us to complete our degrees - four years? Five years? Six years? When he asked "over six years?" I put up my hand and there was laughter around the room. Seven years??
Seven years. Why did it take me seven years to do a four year degree? I responded with "because I am a student with a disability." The room fell silent.
I started my degree in the fall of 2002 - just 7 months after having had major surgery, resigning a position that was going to be cut during downsizing, selling a house and moving a thousand miles back home. And because of the nature of the surgery, I was still dealing with a healing incision when I started classes.
When I started my degree I was aiming to go to medical school - I had undergone so much medical trauma it seemed like a good fit. I spent three years working on an undergraduate biology degree and doing pre-med courses before I realized my desire to be a doctor had more to do with my needing to understand what I'd been through than it did with my needing to be a doctor. I did a lot of soul searching and switched to the NREM program as I feel happiest outside.
The switch added time to my degree as I had to back up and take some first year NREM courses in order to move forward in that degree. The fall I did the switch to NREM was also the fall I underwent what became round of major surgery number four. Imagine what it's like to have to put all of your classes on hold in the middle of a semester (four weeks before finals) because the day surgery your surgeon expected ended up being major surgery complete with four days in hospital on high doses of morphine and codeine for pain management. A massive internal abscess had developed in my pelvic cavity possibly due to an infected stitch from the surgery in 2002.
I spent that winter walking around with a surgical drain clearing out the abscess while it healed. And I had to finish the fall semester coursework (midterm, lab final, term paper, entomology collection, four final exams) while working on 4 winter semester courses. I'm still not sure how I pulled that off, other than I know that is the year my GPA took a shot in the leg that it never really had the chance to recover from.
As I moved forward with my fish and wildlife degree my arthritis became progressively worse. Higher levels of fatigue, pain and stiffness followed me for the rest of my degree, including a stretch in the fall of my final year where I needed a cane to get around.
Seven years.
During my reflection at the DSC yesterday I reminded myself of the winter of 2001 where a surgeon hovered over the gurney I lay on in the ER of Victoria General Hospital and told me (a) there would be a 30% chance I'd have a permanently disabled right arm from the blood clot (b) I would undergo surgery to remove my large intestine to "cure" the ulcerative colitis that was killing me (oh, good, an ostomy appliance AND a disabled right arm) and (c) as they could not find a match for my blood type if anything went wrong during surgery I may not wake up as they could not give me transfusions - too high risk for a transfusion reaction.
Since then I've had some incredible jobs (still have friends who jokingly call me the "media star" from several summers on the radio, tv and newspaper doing fire reporting and bear aware), ridden some amazing horses, laughed with good friends, trained for and competed in my first (of hopefully many) adventure races.
This year that non-disabled right arm carried the Olympic Flame, signed the application form which resulted in my acceptance as an international member of the Explorers Club, and, on May 28th, will accept my parchment from UNBC.
To the Class of 2010, I wish you all the best as you move forward into the next phase of your lives. I'll miss you and think of you often. Hope you keep in touch.
What's next for me? At the moment the quest is for a paycheque to have an income again.
Long term? I have a long list of places on this planet I want to explore and hope to start planning my first expedition soon.
For now? Rest. My brain and body are tired.
It's been a very long seven years.
See you on the trails,
Barb
I wrote all of my exams at the Disability Services Centre - having inflammatory arthritis means the fingers don't always work as well as they should so part of my accommodation was the use of a computer for exams. Writing at the DSC also allowed me the chance to go for leg stretches to ease any stiffness that can occur while sitting for a three hour long exam.
As my cohorts wrote the exam in the evening - I feel for anyone who has to write a 6pm exam - in order to maintain exam integrity I was "held" at the DSC until 6:15pm which meant hanging out with the amazing ladies who work at the DSC for the very last time. I'll miss these ladies, let me tell you. They have been my advocates for disability awareness, my shoulders to cry on when I needed support, and my friends when I needed a laugh. I could not have completed this degree without them. Thanks ladies!
Seven years. Well eight if you count the year off I took while working for the BC Conservation Corps and subsequent winter semester taking anthropology and archaeology courses for self-interest as I missed all of the fall semester prerequisites. But really it's been seven years.
Earlier this academic year several of the degree programs at UNBC underwent an independent review and student feedback into our degree program was welcome. I joined several of my cohorts from the fish and wildlife program as we expressed our concerns and offered suggestions on how the program could be improved. During this session one of the facilitators asked how long it took us to complete our degrees - four years? Five years? Six years? When he asked "over six years?" I put up my hand and there was laughter around the room. Seven years??
Seven years. Why did it take me seven years to do a four year degree? I responded with "because I am a student with a disability." The room fell silent.
I started my degree in the fall of 2002 - just 7 months after having had major surgery, resigning a position that was going to be cut during downsizing, selling a house and moving a thousand miles back home. And because of the nature of the surgery, I was still dealing with a healing incision when I started classes.
When I started my degree I was aiming to go to medical school - I had undergone so much medical trauma it seemed like a good fit. I spent three years working on an undergraduate biology degree and doing pre-med courses before I realized my desire to be a doctor had more to do with my needing to understand what I'd been through than it did with my needing to be a doctor. I did a lot of soul searching and switched to the NREM program as I feel happiest outside.
The switch added time to my degree as I had to back up and take some first year NREM courses in order to move forward in that degree. The fall I did the switch to NREM was also the fall I underwent what became round of major surgery number four. Imagine what it's like to have to put all of your classes on hold in the middle of a semester (four weeks before finals) because the day surgery your surgeon expected ended up being major surgery complete with four days in hospital on high doses of morphine and codeine for pain management. A massive internal abscess had developed in my pelvic cavity possibly due to an infected stitch from the surgery in 2002.
I spent that winter walking around with a surgical drain clearing out the abscess while it healed. And I had to finish the fall semester coursework (midterm, lab final, term paper, entomology collection, four final exams) while working on 4 winter semester courses. I'm still not sure how I pulled that off, other than I know that is the year my GPA took a shot in the leg that it never really had the chance to recover from.
As I moved forward with my fish and wildlife degree my arthritis became progressively worse. Higher levels of fatigue, pain and stiffness followed me for the rest of my degree, including a stretch in the fall of my final year where I needed a cane to get around.
Seven years.
During my reflection at the DSC yesterday I reminded myself of the winter of 2001 where a surgeon hovered over the gurney I lay on in the ER of Victoria General Hospital and told me (a) there would be a 30% chance I'd have a permanently disabled right arm from the blood clot (b) I would undergo surgery to remove my large intestine to "cure" the ulcerative colitis that was killing me (oh, good, an ostomy appliance AND a disabled right arm) and (c) as they could not find a match for my blood type if anything went wrong during surgery I may not wake up as they could not give me transfusions - too high risk for a transfusion reaction.
Since then I've had some incredible jobs (still have friends who jokingly call me the "media star" from several summers on the radio, tv and newspaper doing fire reporting and bear aware), ridden some amazing horses, laughed with good friends, trained for and competed in my first (of hopefully many) adventure races.
This year that non-disabled right arm carried the Olympic Flame, signed the application form which resulted in my acceptance as an international member of the Explorers Club, and, on May 28th, will accept my parchment from UNBC.
To the Class of 2010, I wish you all the best as you move forward into the next phase of your lives. I'll miss you and think of you often. Hope you keep in touch.
What's next for me? At the moment the quest is for a paycheque to have an income again.
Long term? I have a long list of places on this planet I want to explore and hope to start planning my first expedition soon.
For now? Rest. My brain and body are tired.
It's been a very long seven years.
See you on the trails,
Barb
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Explorers Club
In the midst of this past winter's no-I-don't/yes-I-do have Ankylosing Spondylitis drama I fired off an email to the Canadian Chapter of The Explorers Club asking how one becomes a member. Go big or go home, not going to let this disease nonsense stop me and I need big goals to work towards so why not working towards one day carrying the flag of the Explorers Club?
First, a bit of history. The Explorers Club is a private multidisciplinary organization dedicated to field research and preserving the instinct to explore. The EC has a long history of exploration firsts on the planet and many of the people whose books I've read and documentaries and television specials/series I've watched are members of the EC. These members have inspired me to pursue my own instinct to explore.
The Canadian Chapter introduced me to a sponsor who would help me work on my application package and I set off to work on my CV.
I haven't done a lot of exploring yet - the past 20 years of medical challenges have kept me pretty much on close tether, not to mention a full-time university science degree course load. But I am in a field based program and have had some field experience, presentation experience, and have done a lot of technical writing for school and work, so, at my sponsor's suggestion, I emphasized that side of my background.
I applied under the category of Associate Member as I felt with my lack of exploration background that category would be the best fit. With sponsor letter and application complete, I mailed the application off at the end of January and waited patiently for the next Board Meeting when membership applications would be processed.
On March 24th I received an email from the Canadian Chapter's communications director welcoming myself and other newly appointed EC members to the Club! To say I was thrilled would be an understatement! I immediately fired off an email to my sponsor to say thank you for his support and am eagerly looking forward to raising a glass with him in thanks.
The following morning I received an email from the BC/Yukon membership director welcoming the new members of the EC. There it was in print:
As an International Member, Barbara Durau, Prince George,BC.
International Member! I couldn't believe my eyes! I was expecting Associate! I fired off an email to my sponsor expressing my delight and surprise at this membership category. He reminded me my application made mention to the challenges I had been up against and he told me the Board took notice of this.
Membership in the EC, he told me, is not solely about amassing a list of "accomplishments." Members of the EC tend to have a different outlook on life than other people and as such they tend to look favorably upon those who have been knocked down hard, get back up again, and keep moving forward. His final words to me were "keep going!"
I don't have words to express how it feels to have a group of complete strangers on the other side of the continent look at a six page snapshot of my life and deem what I have been up against and overcome to be worthy of full membership in a very prestigious organization. It's as if, for the first time in twenty years, I've been accepted into a group of people to whom I don't have to explain myself. They know adversity, they know physical hardship, they know. They know.
Spending the past 20 years trying to explain to people to whom adversity is a barista taking too long to make a latte what it's like to hurt to take a breath, to walk a step, to write an exam numbed on pain meds, to be told you've lost mobility...
Explorers know, man. These are people who've faced frostbite, the bends, the thermias, the depths, the heights, the winds, the rains, the blazing sun, and gotten back up and done it again and again and again. Why? Because of that driving passion to keep moving forward, to keep exploring, to make that next discovery.
And now I am part of that "family." I'm not going to lie, I walk a little taller these days.
And you want to know the really cool part? Watching tv or perusing the shelves of a bookstore and seeing works done by men and women who are now my colleagues. That my friend is the cool part. It will be even cooler when I join them at ECAD, the Explorers Club Annual Dinner, held every March at the Waldorf Astoria in New York. Looking forward to hearing and sharing stories of exploration and, hopefully, meeting some of the people who inspired me to send off that application form.
Until then, I have final exams to write, convocation to attend and my own expeditions to plan.
Where oh where shall I go first....?
See you on the trails,
Barb
First, a bit of history. The Explorers Club is a private multidisciplinary organization dedicated to field research and preserving the instinct to explore. The EC has a long history of exploration firsts on the planet and many of the people whose books I've read and documentaries and television specials/series I've watched are members of the EC. These members have inspired me to pursue my own instinct to explore.
The Canadian Chapter introduced me to a sponsor who would help me work on my application package and I set off to work on my CV.
I haven't done a lot of exploring yet - the past 20 years of medical challenges have kept me pretty much on close tether, not to mention a full-time university science degree course load. But I am in a field based program and have had some field experience, presentation experience, and have done a lot of technical writing for school and work, so, at my sponsor's suggestion, I emphasized that side of my background.
I applied under the category of Associate Member as I felt with my lack of exploration background that category would be the best fit. With sponsor letter and application complete, I mailed the application off at the end of January and waited patiently for the next Board Meeting when membership applications would be processed.
On March 24th I received an email from the Canadian Chapter's communications director welcoming myself and other newly appointed EC members to the Club! To say I was thrilled would be an understatement! I immediately fired off an email to my sponsor to say thank you for his support and am eagerly looking forward to raising a glass with him in thanks.
The following morning I received an email from the BC/Yukon membership director welcoming the new members of the EC. There it was in print:
As an International Member, Barbara Durau, Prince George,BC.
International Member! I couldn't believe my eyes! I was expecting Associate! I fired off an email to my sponsor expressing my delight and surprise at this membership category. He reminded me my application made mention to the challenges I had been up against and he told me the Board took notice of this.
Membership in the EC, he told me, is not solely about amassing a list of "accomplishments." Members of the EC tend to have a different outlook on life than other people and as such they tend to look favorably upon those who have been knocked down hard, get back up again, and keep moving forward. His final words to me were "keep going!"
I don't have words to express how it feels to have a group of complete strangers on the other side of the continent look at a six page snapshot of my life and deem what I have been up against and overcome to be worthy of full membership in a very prestigious organization. It's as if, for the first time in twenty years, I've been accepted into a group of people to whom I don't have to explain myself. They know adversity, they know physical hardship, they know. They know.
Spending the past 20 years trying to explain to people to whom adversity is a barista taking too long to make a latte what it's like to hurt to take a breath, to walk a step, to write an exam numbed on pain meds, to be told you've lost mobility...
Explorers know, man. These are people who've faced frostbite, the bends, the thermias, the depths, the heights, the winds, the rains, the blazing sun, and gotten back up and done it again and again and again. Why? Because of that driving passion to keep moving forward, to keep exploring, to make that next discovery.
And now I am part of that "family." I'm not going to lie, I walk a little taller these days.
And you want to know the really cool part? Watching tv or perusing the shelves of a bookstore and seeing works done by men and women who are now my colleagues. That my friend is the cool part. It will be even cooler when I join them at ECAD, the Explorers Club Annual Dinner, held every March at the Waldorf Astoria in New York. Looking forward to hearing and sharing stories of exploration and, hopefully, meeting some of the people who inspired me to send off that application form.
Until then, I have final exams to write, convocation to attend and my own expeditions to plan.
Where oh where shall I go first....?
See you on the trails,
Barb
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Four weeks until final exams!
Suddenly the crunch is on! Four weeks until my last round of final exams (G-d and hard work willing.)
Before then, two group projects, countless assignments and two, no make that three presentations. It's getting hard to stay focused with the "end" so near.
What am I going to do when I graduate?
That is the million dollar question. I have a very long list of things I'd like to do:
SCUBA,
mountain climbing
adventure racing
kayaking
hiking
backpacking
photography
reading books with plots
travel
and more...
Hopefully the new medication will happen and will work and I'll finally have some rest from the pain and stiffness and be able to trail run and mountain bike and all of those fun outdoor things I have had to ease back from because of an unwilling ribcage.
"Hope springs eternal in the human breast."
Alexander Pope
Here's hoping.
See you on the trails,
Barb
Before then, two group projects, countless assignments and two, no make that three presentations. It's getting hard to stay focused with the "end" so near.
What am I going to do when I graduate?
That is the million dollar question. I have a very long list of things I'd like to do:
SCUBA,
mountain climbing
adventure racing
kayaking
hiking
backpacking
photography
reading books with plots
travel
and more...
Hopefully the new medication will happen and will work and I'll finally have some rest from the pain and stiffness and be able to trail run and mountain bike and all of those fun outdoor things I have had to ease back from because of an unwilling ribcage.
"Hope springs eternal in the human breast."
Alexander Pope
Here's hoping.
See you on the trails,
Barb
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Mental toughness
Been watching coverage of the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Winter Games. Fortunately it's reading break so time to relax a bit (and hopefully get caught up on...readings).
The AS flare up that I've been fighting now for, oh, forever, goes on and led me back to my doctor's office 10 days ago for pain meds. NSAIDs don't work and Tylenol alone isn't doing a thing so I left his office with a 'script for T3's. The upside? A bit of relief from the pain and an opportunity to start gently getting back into Range of Motion (ROM) exercises and daily walks. The downside? Constant mindnumbing drowsiness caused by the codeine and codeine inspired dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night asking WTF? Some days a gal just can't win.
Where was I again? Oh, yes, the Olympics. Watching ladies snowboarding snow cross racing today. Did I mention I have snowboard boots? Bought a pair a couple of winters ago in hopes of learning how to snowboard. They haven't seen snow yet. Anyways, watching the ladies on the course succumb one after another to the technical course, the jumps, the quality of the snow, and getting back up, dusting themselves off and getting back on course when possible to finish the race. One of the commentators made a comment about "she's using her training in mental toughness." That hit a nerve.
My mental toughness training has been getting a workout lately. It's hard to be in pain all the time. It's hard to stay upbeat and optimistic when you are in pain all the time.
It's hard to listen to pep talks from friends who, while they mean well, may not realize how devastating telling someone with a lifelong incurable disease things they should be doing to feel better. Trust me, it's been tried. Things that don't help the cause don't stay around long. Be a shoulder I can cry on, vent to, ask me what I NEED to help me. Or just be politely quiet and wait for me to ask. Give me advice and I get defensive and then I don't want to mention my pain and stiffness for fear I'll get another round of "well, didn't you try the....?"
It's hard to plan ahead. I'm so close to being done my degree and facing the next step. But how do I take that next step when I'm faced with a medication that will suppress my immune system? I'm living on hopes it will work. And it's dangerous to live on hope because when that hope gets pulled out from under your feet it's devastating.
It's hard to get moving when you limp down the hallway in the morning - one leg shorter than the other because your SI joints are inflamed and your pelvis is shifted. It's hard to walk your 30 minutes when your ribcage spasms won't stop and you have to will your legs to move forward one after the other. Your eyes are focused on the road two steps ahead of you for hazards that may make you fall on your ass because to someone with AS falling on one's ass on an icy road is devastating.
It's hard to wait for that magical time of the day when the morning stiffness wears off. Usually when you've been awake and moving for a few hours. But lately that time of day is shifting later and later towards the evening. That means being mentally tough longer and longer. That is exhausting.
I'm tired.
Mentally tired.
My mental toughness needs a vacation.
The AS flare up that I've been fighting now for, oh, forever, goes on and led me back to my doctor's office 10 days ago for pain meds. NSAIDs don't work and Tylenol alone isn't doing a thing so I left his office with a 'script for T3's. The upside? A bit of relief from the pain and an opportunity to start gently getting back into Range of Motion (ROM) exercises and daily walks. The downside? Constant mindnumbing drowsiness caused by the codeine and codeine inspired dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night asking WTF? Some days a gal just can't win.
Where was I again? Oh, yes, the Olympics. Watching ladies snowboarding snow cross racing today. Did I mention I have snowboard boots? Bought a pair a couple of winters ago in hopes of learning how to snowboard. They haven't seen snow yet. Anyways, watching the ladies on the course succumb one after another to the technical course, the jumps, the quality of the snow, and getting back up, dusting themselves off and getting back on course when possible to finish the race. One of the commentators made a comment about "she's using her training in mental toughness." That hit a nerve.
My mental toughness training has been getting a workout lately. It's hard to be in pain all the time. It's hard to stay upbeat and optimistic when you are in pain all the time.
It's hard to listen to pep talks from friends who, while they mean well, may not realize how devastating telling someone with a lifelong incurable disease things they should be doing to feel better. Trust me, it's been tried. Things that don't help the cause don't stay around long. Be a shoulder I can cry on, vent to, ask me what I NEED to help me. Or just be politely quiet and wait for me to ask. Give me advice and I get defensive and then I don't want to mention my pain and stiffness for fear I'll get another round of "well, didn't you try the....?"
It's hard to plan ahead. I'm so close to being done my degree and facing the next step. But how do I take that next step when I'm faced with a medication that will suppress my immune system? I'm living on hopes it will work. And it's dangerous to live on hope because when that hope gets pulled out from under your feet it's devastating.
It's hard to get moving when you limp down the hallway in the morning - one leg shorter than the other because your SI joints are inflamed and your pelvis is shifted. It's hard to walk your 30 minutes when your ribcage spasms won't stop and you have to will your legs to move forward one after the other. Your eyes are focused on the road two steps ahead of you for hazards that may make you fall on your ass because to someone with AS falling on one's ass on an icy road is devastating.
It's hard to wait for that magical time of the day when the morning stiffness wears off. Usually when you've been awake and moving for a few hours. But lately that time of day is shifting later and later towards the evening. That means being mentally tough longer and longer. That is exhausting.
I'm tired.
Mentally tired.
My mental toughness needs a vacation.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
OTR092-0123
Almost a year ago I entered an RBC sponsored contest to become an Olympic Torchbearer for the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Torch Relay.The contest asked entrants to make a pledge to "Create a Better Canada." My pledge was to become more physically active in hopes of inspiring friends and family to become physically active. By choosing a more physically active lifestyle, one improves their overall health and fitness and starts making healthier food choices and reducing some of the burden on our health care system. Physical fitness also causes one to be more aware about the food they eat, the water they drink, the air they breathe and one becomes more active in their communities to make sure healthier choices are available. One also becomes more aware of the ecosystem they live in and starts to make choices to protect and improve parks and open spaces to ensure there are places to be more physically active outdoors. If more people make those kinds of choices, it can lead to more sustainable communities.
In mid-May my cellphone rang. It was the national media coordinator for RBC congratulating me on being pre-selected as an Olympic Torchbearer!! My name was chosen out of tens of thousands of entrants. I cried! They loved my pledge and I was asked if I wanted to participate in an RBC media event in June. I said of course, I've done lots of public speaking and media work in the past so had no concerns with taking part in such an event. I was sent forms to fill out and waited patiently for my paperwork to go through so I would be an official Torchbearer.
In early June I received a phone call from the western media coordinator for RBC congratulating me on being selected as a Torchbearer - the paperwork had gone through, it was official. I cried again. The media event was set for the week of June 22nd and I would be contacted by the branch manager of the main branch of the RBC in PG to confirm details.
On June 24th the branch manager called. I cried again. The event was set for Friday, June 26th in the afternoon with an interview with the local television station at 9:30 in the morning. As my car was not-drivable, I rode my mountain bike to the interview - I explained to the bank manager about my car, about my pledge (which I was honoring) and about the adventure race I was training for hence the bike. We did the interview with CKPG, I was presented with a jacket from RBC and an RBC Olympic Torchbearer scarf.
Spent the afternoon with friends and then headed to the bank for the event. The branch manager arranged a taxi to pick up my mom and bring her to the event too. I was introduced in front of a bank full of guests - the Mayor of PG, members of City Council, Olympian Anne-Marie Lefrancois (with a replica of the torch!!), local media, my mom, friends, RBC staff and guests. Interviews for local newspapers, photos with the Mayor, photos with mom, photos with friends. Cake. Smiles. A great day!!
In December I received my email from VANOC welcoming me to the Olympic family (cried again) and informing me of where I would be carrying the Torch on January 29, 2010. I had hoped it would be in Prince George, I was assigned to Valemount - a village in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. At first I was saddened at not being in PG, but then realized I had the honor of carrying "Athens" in a small community in the Rockies that normally doesn't get to participate in events such as this.
Christmas Eve I come home from work to find a parcel from "The Olympic Store." My offical Torchbearer uniform had arrived. I cried again.
Today I paid for my torch. 12,000 torches were made by Bombardier and were offered for sale below cost to torchbearers to allow us the opportunity to keep a piece of Olympic history. I was happy to learn as many recycled materials as possible were used to manufacture the torches. The confirmation email from the Olympic store made me cry again. I am so honored to be part of this.
On January 28th I will be attending an RBC sponsored event in PG where I will meet other RBC Torchbearers in the area. Looking forward to saying hello to the PG branch manager who coordinated the event in June - he was selected as a Torchbearer too!
On January 29 my mom, good family friends and I will be making the journey to Valemount - approximately 300kms east of PG and, depending on the weather and road conditions, a 3 hourish drive. I'm hoping other family members can join me, but I understand the distance may not make that possible.
At 7:45pm I meet with officials and other Valemount torchbearers.
At approximately 9:05pm I carry the flame.
OTR092-0123. Olympic Torch Relay Day 92, Torchbearer 0123. That's me.
See you on the trails,
Barb
In mid-May my cellphone rang. It was the national media coordinator for RBC congratulating me on being pre-selected as an Olympic Torchbearer!! My name was chosen out of tens of thousands of entrants. I cried! They loved my pledge and I was asked if I wanted to participate in an RBC media event in June. I said of course, I've done lots of public speaking and media work in the past so had no concerns with taking part in such an event. I was sent forms to fill out and waited patiently for my paperwork to go through so I would be an official Torchbearer.
In early June I received a phone call from the western media coordinator for RBC congratulating me on being selected as a Torchbearer - the paperwork had gone through, it was official. I cried again. The media event was set for the week of June 22nd and I would be contacted by the branch manager of the main branch of the RBC in PG to confirm details.
On June 24th the branch manager called. I cried again. The event was set for Friday, June 26th in the afternoon with an interview with the local television station at 9:30 in the morning. As my car was not-drivable, I rode my mountain bike to the interview - I explained to the bank manager about my car, about my pledge (which I was honoring) and about the adventure race I was training for hence the bike. We did the interview with CKPG, I was presented with a jacket from RBC and an RBC Olympic Torchbearer scarf.
Spent the afternoon with friends and then headed to the bank for the event. The branch manager arranged a taxi to pick up my mom and bring her to the event too. I was introduced in front of a bank full of guests - the Mayor of PG, members of City Council, Olympian Anne-Marie Lefrancois (with a replica of the torch!!), local media, my mom, friends, RBC staff and guests. Interviews for local newspapers, photos with the Mayor, photos with mom, photos with friends. Cake. Smiles. A great day!!
In December I received my email from VANOC welcoming me to the Olympic family (cried again) and informing me of where I would be carrying the Torch on January 29, 2010. I had hoped it would be in Prince George, I was assigned to Valemount - a village in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. At first I was saddened at not being in PG, but then realized I had the honor of carrying "Athens" in a small community in the Rockies that normally doesn't get to participate in events such as this.
Christmas Eve I come home from work to find a parcel from "The Olympic Store." My offical Torchbearer uniform had arrived. I cried again.
Today I paid for my torch. 12,000 torches were made by Bombardier and were offered for sale below cost to torchbearers to allow us the opportunity to keep a piece of Olympic history. I was happy to learn as many recycled materials as possible were used to manufacture the torches. The confirmation email from the Olympic store made me cry again. I am so honored to be part of this.
On January 28th I will be attending an RBC sponsored event in PG where I will meet other RBC Torchbearers in the area. Looking forward to saying hello to the PG branch manager who coordinated the event in June - he was selected as a Torchbearer too!
On January 29 my mom, good family friends and I will be making the journey to Valemount - approximately 300kms east of PG and, depending on the weather and road conditions, a 3 hourish drive. I'm hoping other family members can join me, but I understand the distance may not make that possible.
At 7:45pm I meet with officials and other Valemount torchbearers.
At approximately 9:05pm I carry the flame.
OTR092-0123. Olympic Torch Relay Day 92, Torchbearer 0123. That's me.
See you on the trails,
Barb
Friday, January 15, 2010
Oh yes it is.
Saw a rheumatologist this past Monday. Specialist in arthritic disorders. He was actually the very first "rheumy" I saw 18 years ago - doubt he remembered ;)
He took my history and then dug out his measuring tape and Sharpie and gave me the arthritic once over. When he was done, he told me that not only is it Ankylosing Spondylitis, but that I need to be on prescription anti-inflammatories every day. Why? I've lost some range of motion (ROM) in my shoulders, axial spine and lower back and my ribcage is at the abnormally low end of the expansion stage. In other words, when I take a deep breath, my ribs don't move. Makes running difficult, trust me.
Ah, I tell him, but I've been on all of the NSAID's - and I rattle them off - and they don't work. So I'm now on Mobicox for a few weeks and then another for a few weeks and then he'll start me on Enbrel - an anti-TNF biologic that will suppress my immune system and, hopefully, stop the inflammation, pain and destruction. That's the plan.
We did a thorough once over of my spinal x-rays - I looked over his shoulder, it's allowed, it's my spine! "The problem with women," he says jokingly, "it takes longer for their spines to fuse." Which is why it's there but not on the x-rays...yet.
Devastated doesn't come close. First a confirmation. Second hearing I've lost mobility due to this disease. Third the knowledge I've reached the biologics stage of treatment and will be suppressing my immune system.
It's like I have to learn to cope all over again. Doesn't help this past few weeks I've been ramping up for a major flare-up. My ribcage is in spasms, my back is in spasms. It hurts to breath, to sit, to move. And the fatigue caused by the inflammation and the disease process has me wiped out.
I'm fortunate to have amazingly supportive friends. Couldn't do this without them.
So now I have to rethink a few things. Still want to do MOMAR this fall - need a fitness goal to work towards as fitness and exercise is so important when living with AS.
I'm tired. It's been a long, hard, 18 years. Hoping the Enbrel gives me some relief.
Until then...
See you on the trails,
Barb
He took my history and then dug out his measuring tape and Sharpie and gave me the arthritic once over. When he was done, he told me that not only is it Ankylosing Spondylitis, but that I need to be on prescription anti-inflammatories every day. Why? I've lost some range of motion (ROM) in my shoulders, axial spine and lower back and my ribcage is at the abnormally low end of the expansion stage. In other words, when I take a deep breath, my ribs don't move. Makes running difficult, trust me.
Ah, I tell him, but I've been on all of the NSAID's - and I rattle them off - and they don't work. So I'm now on Mobicox for a few weeks and then another for a few weeks and then he'll start me on Enbrel - an anti-TNF biologic that will suppress my immune system and, hopefully, stop the inflammation, pain and destruction. That's the plan.
We did a thorough once over of my spinal x-rays - I looked over his shoulder, it's allowed, it's my spine! "The problem with women," he says jokingly, "it takes longer for their spines to fuse." Which is why it's there but not on the x-rays...yet.
Devastated doesn't come close. First a confirmation. Second hearing I've lost mobility due to this disease. Third the knowledge I've reached the biologics stage of treatment and will be suppressing my immune system.
It's like I have to learn to cope all over again. Doesn't help this past few weeks I've been ramping up for a major flare-up. My ribcage is in spasms, my back is in spasms. It hurts to breath, to sit, to move. And the fatigue caused by the inflammation and the disease process has me wiped out.
I'm fortunate to have amazingly supportive friends. Couldn't do this without them.
So now I have to rethink a few things. Still want to do MOMAR this fall - need a fitness goal to work towards as fitness and exercise is so important when living with AS.
I'm tired. It's been a long, hard, 18 years. Hoping the Enbrel gives me some relief.
Until then...
See you on the trails,
Barb
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