the wall.

Caregiver burnout has been a hot topic since the early weeks following my accident. Long days and sometimes nights at the hospital had my loved ones feeling the weight of my new life with quadriplegia. The support team rallied around them and assisted where they could to prevent caregiver burnout.

Now 16 years later, I think it’s time we started talking about disability burnout. Eventually the heaviness of living with a disability falls solely on the person themselves. There’s a lot to unpack here so, please bear with me.

Living with a disability usually means that our body requires more care in one way or another. Being a quadriplegic not only requires mobility aids, for me, it requires a morning personal care routine that’s 2.5-4hrs EVERY. SINGLE. MORNING. (No days off). Which is why I say that depression is a luxury not afforded to the disabled community. We have no choice but to care for our vessel - or face serious health implications. Other things quadriplegia requires; medical supplies and support staff. Which are costs that I have always been completely responsible for. Financial stress is another added burden for many disabled people because more often than not, government support doesn’t cover all their expenses and equipment costs - if they’re even eligible - and education and employment are rarely accessible. Leaving very little options for disabled people to cover their living expenses - many disabled people in Ontario live in poverty.

Living with a disability also occupies that much more of your brain space when you’re literally managing your life - budgeting, scheduling and taking stock. We often over compensate by taking on extra responsibilities to lighten the load on the people around us, to offset the burden that we feel we are.

I find myself 16 years into this experience, the family supports no longer exist and I've been doing this alone since leaving my abusive marriage 5 years ago. And though I had struggled greatly with feeling like a burden on my family and support system, I have to wonder how difficult it is for my kids to watch me do this on my own. I'm thankful for the grace these little beings give me. The only silver lining in doing this alone, is that my children do not have to watch me suffer abuse at the hands of “family”. I know that my disability changes their childhood and I pray it helps them become empathetic and understanding men, rather than resenting me for the extra challenges. I'm not naïve to the fact that their feelings are bound to change with time and as different obstacles arise, as things in life always do.

I've arrived at a place in life, a chapter of disability, that I call "the wall". The enormous undertaking of keeping myself well has become an obstacle that I'm struggling to ascend. There's no safety net or climbing rope. No hand to reach down and pull me up. It's on me.. and I'm exhausted. I've hit the proverbial wall of disability burnout and it's a literal "wait and see" situation. I'm just waiting to see if I find the strength to climb before my body reaches the point where it can't recover. It's terrifying and taxing to even think of the implications, mostly for my kids. For anyone that's going to say "BUT YOUR KIDS NEED YOU", you're entirely correct, they do. My kids also need to see me supported, well and living a life that I'm proud of. I'm a shell of myself currently, not someone I'm proud to be. Do not mistake my exhaustion for weakness because I promise you, this life ain't for the weak.

As the years have progressed, the financial strain has become an inescapable burden. It's not cheap to live in a disabled body  - and for anyone who thinks the government "takes care" of the disabled, you're wrong. For the first time post injury, hitting this level of burnout has left me in a state where I'm currently unable to continue working. As I try desperately to access the pitiful government assistance available in my province, I'm still met with hurdles. You know what was REALLY easy to access though... Medical Assistance in Dying. After a 2 1/2 hour appointment with my doctor, the process was started. I just have to complete the 91 day waiting period. It's been 32 days so far, which means that I'm 59 days away from the government helping me die.

In December, I asked my doctor for a referral to psychiatry.  It won't be until early 2024 that I'm able to get an appointment and applying for government disability support is a 6-8 month waiting list.

I'm at an impasse. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. It's blatantly obvious that the government in place here in Ontario would rather end the lives of disabled people, rather than improve their quality of life.

This is not the Canada that I grew up in and once loved - and felt safe in.

There is SO much wrong with the system and I can assure you that there are places doing it waaaay better.

So at the risk of sounding like a bitter person with a disability, we need help. We need able bodied allies willing to rally for us and with us to create change. The average Canadian spends 8 to 11 years of their life with one or more disabilities. While these issues may not affect you today, it's very likely that it will affect you or someone close to you in the future.

Please check on your disabled friends.

We are not always alright, and sometimes we pretend to be ok because we're afraid of burdening you. It's time we all took off our masks.

https://gofund.me/a574ce98

nomad.

I spent the better part of 11 years living (ahem... hiding) in a small town after my spinal cord injury. Although I acted as though I knew what I was doing, subconsciously I was seeking the space to learn exactly how to manage disabled life while still fulfilling my soul purpose in this life. The growth took a little longer than I wanted and took a lot more fumbles than I would have liked but that’s the beauty of the journey. 

My recovery from breast implant illness and subsequently the breakdown of my family left me alone and very much struggling to maintain stability in the house that my family once occupied. I needed change. I needed to find the inspiration to live again. I knew that I needed a fresh start in a new place. The Great Canadian Woman book launched the first weekend in October 2019. I remember sitting at the event listening to all the other authors and speakers and a light went off in my head. Toronto! That’s where I need to be. This moment also brought me back to the year prior when I was admitted to a Toronto hospital and one of my childhood friends came to visit me. I was telling her that I knew everything was crumbling and I needed to start preparing to begin again. She suggested that I move to Toronto. At that time, I was way to sick and truthfully the idea seemed impossible. 

Back to the book launch, I decided to leave the event early because I was being called to make big changes. I felt it in my soul. That week I started looking at properties in Toronto and by the following week I had found my new home. I got everything signed and finalized the closing date for mid November. Downsizing from 3000sq ft to 650sq ft was intense but it felt so good to get rid of things that I really didn’t need. Much of my healing journey has involved clearing. Clearing my space, clearing my mind, clearing stagnant energy and eliminating relationships that were hindering my growth. It was terrifying at times. The lack mindset can be powerfully scary. Here’s what I learned though; 

Change is scary. Letting go of things is scary. Moving on from relationships is scary. But... the truth is, in order to make room for the new things that come with the next chapter, we have to release the old. We have to lean into change in order to really benefit from the experience. Resisting inevitable change only leaves you miserable and half way between chapters. Essentially stuck in limbo. Learning to trust that what’s to come is better than what is gone was a hard lesson for me to learn especially at a time when I was struggling so much with trust in general. It freed me. Truly. 

Upon arriving in Toronto, boxes stacked literally to the ceiling, I felt a sense of nervous calm. I knew that I was safe. I knew that I was loved. What I didn’t know entirely is why the universe had placed me here. Toronto was a rocky start to say the least. The art of organizing small spaces was not my forte and apparently I still had way more “stuff” than I needed. The support staff that I hired was anything but ideal. I had hired someone who thought they were there to “take care of me” rather than support me in being an extension of myself, for the tasks that I couldn’t manage independently. I was incredibly emotional for a few months while attempting to find a better candidate for the position. Often questioning if my move was a mistake. In February I finally found someone that aligned with my values. Things were at last falling into a groove... and then COVID hit. 

About a week before we went into lockdown, the guy I had been seeing long distance (since October) decided to move to Toronto. Thankfully I wasn’t living alone when the world got weird. Divine timing. As the weeks past and the pandemic restrictions were still in place, my guy and I made the decision to leave the city for the summer. Having an autoimmune disease and being a quadriplegic with compromised lung function makes me more susceptible and less likely to recover from a respiratory illness like COVID. Leaving the city until we have a better idea of what we are dealing with made a whole lot more sense. My guy still had his place in Haliburton so we decided to make the move up North. 

To any able bodied person, this would be a dream! Summer in beautiful cottage country, surrounded by nature with tons of room for the kids. To a quadriplegic, this was a bit daunting. I had to leave my (newfound) reliable support staff, find new support staff in a new town where I know NO ONE, navigate a new routine in a house and town that are not accessible, the list goes on. All this change for a temporary relocation. It made sense though, during a time when very little about the way we were living made sense at all. I knew that this experience would be necessary growth. 

We moved to Haliburton in June, it’s almost September now. I’ll be returning to Toronto in December. It’s hard to believe that it’s almost been a year since I first decided to move to Toronto. Home is no longer a place for me. It’s a feeling. Home is when I hug my little dudes super tight. Home is when my heart feels at peace. Home is when I feel safe to grow beyond what I ever thought was possible. I found my way home to myself when I stopped looking outwards for a sense of belonging. Committing to growth has been the biggest game changer for me. I had to adapt the dialogue around failure. Just because things didn’t turn out the way I wanted them to, does not mean that I failed. It means that those things weren’t meant for me and it’s all part of a bigger picture that I can’t see. 

pivot.

I heard this word used often in my business networks at the beginning of the pandemic. Pivot. Pivot your life. Pivot your business. The sirens signalling impending danger for small businesses sounded loud and clear. As a disabled person, my entire world got turned upside down pretty quickly, leaving me little time to stress about my business. I had support staff stop coming in for fear of contracting the virus on their commute. I had to rally extra support from family, friends and neighbours. I faced medical supply shortages with gloves being in high demand. I had a whole lot more advocacy work to do and two more book projects to submit. My plate was full. The burnout hit HARD. Towards the middle of May, I decided that it was time to pivot. I started with my personal life. I had just moved to Toronto in November with my eyes set on a more accessible lifestyle. But with the city under COVID restrictions, summer stuck in my tiny condo sounded dreadful. Leaving the city was first on the list. My dude has a place up in the forest that needed a little TLC, so I decided to give country living a try for a few months. We could get away from any extra risk, we have access to nature and he can get the house fixed up. I’m hoping that the city feels more “normal” before the winter comes but I’m slowly losing hope that things will have any normalcy by December. I have faith that the universe knows where I need to be.

Living in nature has given me all the grounding I need. It’s given me the space I need. It’s given me peace. It wasn’t an easy decision, it was a really difficult transition. I was giving up the comfort of my accessible space (albeit tiny) for a house with stairs… in the woods… very isolated. I guess isolation was the name of the game earlier in the pandemic but isolation makes disabled life a whole lot more tough. Moving to Toronto was a huge leap outside my comfort zone but city living grew on me. I can say the same for country life but I don’t think winter will be tolerable. The house would be inaccessible for me once the snow comes, which essentially means I’m trapped in here until spring. I’m also currently relying on my partner to be my legs to navigate the stairs, eventually he will need to return to work. I don’t know how the snow will affect the ability of my support staff to arrive safely or how managing in storms and power outages will look. There are so many unknowns right now for all of us.

Being surrounded by serene stillness gave me the motivation to start really digging deep to find what my soul is being called to do. A series of unfortunate events that ended with news that I was back at square one for my website design, put me in the perfect position to sit down and feel it out. Pen to paper. Now here we are…. getting ready for launch in the next few weeks. I’m beyond excited to start the next chapter in business. I’m really happy with the decision to start blogging again. In the next few weeks you will see my online shop pop up too!

Today is my 31st birthday. I feel like COVID stole 30. This year is going to be the year that it all makes sense. The last few years of transition and growth have been really hard but slowly but surely the universe is revealing why I needed to learn those lessons.

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Much Love.

This is 31!

mental health & addictions

This post is eerily fitting considering mental health awareness day was only a few days ago. I have been a little quieter and more reserved lately about what I share. Today, the universe yelled “SPEAK! LET IT OUT”. So here’s my truth about mental health.

I spent the day wrestling with an old wound. One that I know will likely never heal completely. Mental health and addiction are two things that I have known all about almost my entire life. My father has a very complex mental health diagnosis and for as long as I can remember he’s self medicated with drugs and alcohol.

After my mom passed away in 1995, I instantly felt this need to take care of and protect my brothers and my father. That was quickly warped by his substance abuse. Warped into protecting everyone else from the hurt my father caused and trying EVERYTHING to get him to change. I didn’t understand addiction at that tender age. I didn’t understand mental illness then either. I thought that taking the substances out of the equation would fix the rest. Though he is much more mentally stable when he’s clean, he’s still not rational.

He has always been my role model for what not to do and who not to be. I remember being younger and hearing him say “I don’t want you to be anything like me when you grow up”. As a parent now myself, I cannot even begin to understand this. I want my kids to grow up and be like me! That’s why I continuously strive to be a good role model for them. How could he be so selfish? How could he have so little self worth?

My family history of mental illness runs DEEEEEP. Which is why I am so adamant to change this for my kids. I don’t want them to have the same mental struggles that I do. Being raised feeling like an unloved orphan conditioned me to emotional abuse at a very young age. In my teens, I looked for love in the wrong places, I settled, I relied on my relationships to provide a false sense of security. The worst part is that I didn’t actually ever learn how to accept love because I couldn’t ever possibly love myself - my father didn’t (or so I felt).

But he did love me and I’m sure that he still does - in the capacity in which he is capable.

As children, we have two main sources for love and affection - our mother and our father. My mom was incredibly involved and hands on with us kids - we even went to work with her! My mom made up for my father's shortcomings. With her sudden passing, it was like losing both parents.

I’m not making excuses for all the terrible things that my father did - there is no excuse. I have just come to realize that nothing he did or didn’t do was personal. I had no bearing on his choices or actions. Which eliminates the voice inside my head that perpetually tells me that I’m not enough or that I’m not worthy. It doesn’t erase the past and it doesn’t heal all the hurt but it helps.

Today, my father overdosed. This was the first incident since we’ve become estranged that I didn’t get involved. I wasn’t surprised... but my heart hurt for the people who are still in his life. My brother. His girlfriend. Her two sweet, young kids.

I have seen so many people love this man endlessly but his mental illness makes it impossible for him to see the value in this. These people always get hurt and my empath soul hurts for them. Every. Time.

More than anything, I feel so sad for him.

Mental illness isn’t a choice but how you treat it and overcome it, is a choice. A personal choice, at that. Which is why I can’t make that decision for my father.

Instead, I chose to learn how to love and be loved. I choose a different path for my kids. I choose not to be bitter and angry. I also choose to be grateful to my father for bringing me into this world. Going forward, my boundaries and self respect will no longer allow me to be hurt by his choices.

I dream of a world that’s free from the stigma currently surrounding mental illness. I have never fully understood why we look at mental health the way that we as a society tend to. Why is there ever feelings of shame in seeking help for damages caused by emotional or mental trauma? We don’t shame people for going to the hospital after a car accident. Trauma is trauma. Mental. Physical. Emotional. It’s all still damage that needs to be healed. We need to stop isolating those we deem “broken”. Feeling isolated only exacerbates the issues. So I will leave you with this...

Dear ones,

Please don’t pass judgment until you have walked a mile in that person’s shoes - which you literally cannot. Instead, be empathetic and compassionate. Remember that not all illness is visible. Hug people. You never know whose soul needs a little extra love today. More importantly, if you ever feel like you’re wrestling with dark thoughts - reach out! Do not let the opinions of others stop you from healing your mind so you can live an easier life.

You are Loved.

R.

canine carcinoma changed my life

For those of you that don’t know me on a more personal basis, I lost my beloved best friend, my (fur) baby Austyn in September 2017. He had been experiencing a decline since December 2016. It started as what appeared to be neurological symptoms - his gait was off, he was having bowel accidents in his sleep. We had an MRI done to rule out spinal injury or disease, it was negative. We started using the raindrop technique with essential oils for him. He responded well and I think this largely contributed to his improvement and ultimately what helped him live for so long with such a severe illness. His gait improved and he seemed to be getting better with controlling his bowels but was still vomiting. We were told a few years ago that he had pancreatitis and we had switched him to a low fat diet to help manage this. We assumed the vomiting was a pancreatic flare up. We also knew that he needed to have a few teeth pulled because the roots were broken. When he started vomiting more frequently in July, I decided that we needed to get the teeth pulled sooner than later - assuming this was contributing to the vomiting. I thought perhaps the inability to chew properly could be affecting him keeping his food down. He had the teeth pulled at the beginning of August. He came home drooling excessively and on soft food - as to be expected. His decline was quite quick from this point. We struggled to get him to eat, he lost weight very quickly and eventually by the third week in August he stopped eating all together. I knew then that something was very wrong. 

I took him to see Mimi (our veterinarian) and after doing an X-ray, she decided the best thing to do was have him seen by a specialist in the city ASAP. From what she could see, his stomach and liver looked enlarged. I looked at her with tears in my eyes and told her that I would need her help making THE decision when the time came. She asked me to promise her one thing... that I take really good care of myself because the last thing Austyn would want - for me to get sick too. That may sound cheesy to some but that dog was my angel. His purpose in life was to protect and comfort me. He was sent to put all my broken pieces back together after my injury left me shattered. He saved my life. 

 I took him to Toronto on August 28 - the 22nd anniversary of my Mom’s death. Part of me felt relieved when they said that they wanted to keep him overnight, do a scope and get him feeling better but part of me already felt the bad news coming. I was uneasy leaving my baby at a veterinary hospital that we had never been to. I was nervous leaving him knowing how sick he was. 

 Shortly after returning home, I got the call that broke my heart. My beautiful boy had adenocarcinoma in his stomach and the prognosis wasn’t good. I remember sitting in my kitchen screaming. This couldn’t be real. Austyn was always so healthy! I thought that I had done everything possible to keep him healthy. But like with most things, the mainstream way of medical care leaves out a lot of important details. 

I had to at least try to get more answers and see if there was anything we could do to give him more time with a good quality of life. I refused to fight for more time to only watch him continue to suffer. I agreed to a biopsy and he came home two days later. I stopped sleeping for fear of him suffering alone. I laid awake at night with him in my arms as I researched all the natural therapies that we could try, dietary changes we could make and anything dog cancer related.  

After the biopsy results came back, we decided that surgery followed by holistic treatment was his best chance at extending his life. We found an incredible surgeon downtown Toronto that got us in right away. We went downtown Toronto on a Wednesday morning to meet with the surgeon and the oncologist. The surgeon decided to give him fluids overnight and do surgery in the morning. 

Unfortunately and fortunately, once surgery was underway they were able to see the full extent of the mass. I say fortunately because had they not seen the full extent before cutting, they could have killed him on the operating table. Sadly, there was no way to remove the mass without damaging the vagus nerve - which is what would have killed him almost instantly. 

I asked the doctor to just close the incision and we would come get him. I called Mimi (our vet) with the devastating news. We came up with a plan together and she agreed to come that evening to help us send him off to Rainbow Bridge. 

Our home very quickly filled with friends and family that had come to see our boy off. It was a very unique experience - a wake for a dog who was still living. It was the perfect way to honour this dog that was loved by so many. My baby boy was surrounded by all the people in his life that he loved. My boys were each able to give him one last big snuggle. 

After everyone else had a chance to snuggle him, we picked him up and carried him to my bed. I held my beautiful twin flame as closely as I could, while he took his last breath and left his physical being on this earth. 

My world went black for a few weeks afterward. This is when I started to experience the symptoms of Breast Implant Illness but I was so shattered and broken from the loss, that I didn’t piece it all together. I don’t remember much from those first few weeks. Being devastated and so sick made me disconnect completely from the world around me. Even my kids. I’m still sorting through some of the unresolved emotions about how I handled it. I wish I had been able to be stronger and more communicative for the kids but I was so unprepared for the devastation of this loss. I always knew that the day would come and I knew that it would be difficult but I just wasn’t ready. I don’t think you can ever be ready. 

My nights of research lead me to so many great resources and it essentially forced me to learn more about how I could use my essential oils to comfort my ailing pup. I learned a lot about the hidden evils in mainstream veterinary care and pet nutrition. It’s changed everything about how I care for my animals. 

While a raw or home cooked meal is great for dogs it can be challenging and time consuming. I fully intend on home cooked meals for our new Dog, Fred but I have to regain strength first and foremost. Raw diet is much too risky, in my opinion, with a face licking pup and three young boys. 

One of the best things I stumbled across was the website of Dr Peter Dobias. Dr Dobias is based out BC. Dr Dobias has an incurably informative blog for simplifying holistic care for your dog. He has also has a line of supplements that we’ve implemented into Fred’s routine. Anyone with a dog needs to check him out.

DR DOBIAS HEALING STORE

Another really cool connection that I made was with Nancy and Colin at Thistledown Pet Memorials in Uxbridge, Ontario. Thistledown Pet Memorials are the wonderful people that handled all of the after care. Like funeral services for dogs. I was extremely hesitant to call - for one, I thought the cost would be prohibitive. Second, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know anything about the process. I am so glad that I called them. The experience at Thistledown is indescribable - so healing. The best part, it really doesn’t cost much more than what I was paying through the vet for cremation. I had my boy’s ashes cremated and returned to me the same day. I really can’t say enough about how healing the after care at Thistledown was! I hope that some of you will keep them in mind when the time comes. 

 http://www.thistledown.info

4766 Concession Rd 7

Uxbridge, ON 

L9P 1R4

(905) 852-5648

wounded warrior

​With the recent super-moon there have come some very important shifts both in my life and in the world around me. I know that this rings true for more than just myself. So many people in my life are going through major transitions and really struggling to understand why!? 

Super moon energy is extremely powerful and with it comes change. Uncomfortable change. 

My life has seemingly been many cycles of change and transition for almost the better part of a year. I feel like 28 has been mostly a blur and I will be 29 in two weeks! I need to get my butt in gear and make the most of these two weeks! 

My ongoing journey with Breast Implant Illness really has given me a new lease on life. It lead me to a new career path that I’m extremely passionate about - Health Coaching. It’s given me a huge, loving supportive community and many friendships that I will always treasure. It’s shown me who is actually with me when things get tough. It’s taught me how to love myself so I don’t rely on anyone to do it for me. It’s released me from so many of my limiting beliefs. It’s given me the ability to help others. There really are endless ways that this journey has blessed me. Gratitude. I have so much gratitude!

My decision to get breast implants was always for myself. Always. But my insecurities stemmed from the infidelity in my marriage. I couldn’t cope with my husband looking at other women without me thinking that I was the problem. I modified my body for attention, the attention of my husband. I should have saved myself then but I chose not to. Instead I chose this path - and I’m glad that I did. This is what was meant to be. This fight for my life has been so empowering albeit terrifying. The climb back to the top isn’t easy but it’s worth it! 

My husband and I decided in February to spiritually separate and work on ourselves as individuals. I had let his infidelity change who I was. I spent the better part of last summer hunting these women down and ruining their lives - the way I had felt they ruined mine. It’s not something that I’m proud of but it’s my truth to own. From that low point there has only been growth. 

These past five months have been really productive in personal growth for both of us but alas we’ve reached a crossroad. We are very different people than we once were. No one ever stays the same. But we’ve realized that much of our marriage was built on false pretences and unrealistic expectations - like most marriages. Now we are left to decide if moving forward together to find a new normal is even something that we both want. The love that we share for our family trumps all else and walking this health journey together brought us a greater understanding of that. I can only be grateful. 

I do not know what the future holds for me, let alone any of the relationships in my life - and that’s ok! I’m learning to find peace in the chaos. 

I’m learning that being alone is sometimes necessary. I learning that it’s ok to let go. That letting go of what no longer serves me isn’t admitting defeat. 

It’s time for this wounded warrior to lay down her sword. I’m done with the defensive energy. This shift brought with it incredible opportunity for healing. The shift from the Wounded Warrior to the Divine Goddess is long overdue. 

Namaste. 

“I am releasing the Wounded Warrior. I am the Divine Goddess.”

trust your gut

This post is a little different for two reasons. First, it started as an Instagram post but was way too long - hence why it’s not edited. Second, my MacBook was involved in a water accident today and is currently in rice jail - so this post doesn’t include photos. I’ve been forced to work from my phone ONLY today. That basically sums up my Thursday. So without further ado... 

Mexico was a crazy whirlwind that was completely last minute. Every aspect of that adventure was on a whim. When you are as desperately sick as I have been for months on end, you’ll take even the most insane risks.
“But wait? I thought you had already gotten better since you had your implants removed?”
While having my implants removed helped with 90% of my symptoms, it didn’t address the war that was waging in my gut. The persistent and life threatening diarrhea and weight loss was terrifying. Not so much for me but for the people around me. I was so impressed by not feeling so sick from my implants that the improvement outweighed the concern. That’s not to say that I wasn’t concerned, it just wasn’t my focus. I wanted to live once I healed from explant! ... and I did. I accomplished a lot in the last few months. I was also getting a little tired of having to still take it easy because I’m so weak. So when I learned that there is treatment available elsewhere that isn’t available here in Canada for parasites - I jumped at the opportunity to explore it. Which lead me to Mexico...

We landed back in Ontario Thursday evening. I started the medication that was prescribed by the doctor in Mexico. Then I was hit with what is called the “Herxheimer Reaction”. That’s where all the toxins from the dying organisms build up in your system, making you feel a whole lot worse before feeling better. The last 6 days have been an intense detox for me. Also known as the Herxheimer Reaction. The craziest part is that I’m finally feeling better... like better, BETTER! The last of my GI symptoms are almost gone! I can’t tell you how incredible it is to be able to eat and not worry about diarrhea and to actually be able to just enjoy eating again! I’m in disbelief at every meal.
I’m left wrestling with the fact that I am elated to be feeling better and hopefully being able to gain weight, but I’m also disappointed that our medical system continually failed me. If it’s failing me, how many others are in my position!? There’s so many people who just accept a diagnosis without actually finding out the cause. I could have lived for THE REST OF MY LIFE fighting to gain weight while popping anti diarrhea medication but instead I asked WHY my body was now malfunctioning and then I figured out how to fix it.
Luckily for most people who have IBS, Gastritis, food intolerances, allergies, ect, these things are much less dramatic to resolve. It goes to show you how quickly we can be to accept that an illness is “just ageing”, “can’t be fixed” or even “needs surgery”!

health update

Please bare with me as I jump around and try to piece everything together for you! Many people have been asking for updates on my healing journey and I finally have some time to get it into writing.
Let’s start back in February. My explant date was February 12, 2018. I had what I thought was a difficult recovery. It took me a full 6 weeks to be able to lift my arms and move pain free. A week post op, I accidentally overdosed on pain medication. We realized after, that the dosage on the medication wasn’t adjusted to account for my weight loss. It was pretty scary but after a few days in the hospital, my heart recovered from the overdose. I spent most of the 6 weeks in bed and on the couch with the boys, reading books and watching movies. I was even on IV hydration therapy for 3 weeks at home to try to get my kidneys functioning better. We attempted a feeding tube to try to accelerate the weight gain but that didn’t go well.
My symptoms all subsided quite quickly after surgery. Which was incredibly validating!
The following symptoms were resolved at 3 weeks post-op:
headaches
cognitive dysfunction
recurring infections
unexplained sepsis
nausea
vomiting
heart palpitations
elevated pulse and blood pressure
grey/black urine
low potassium
numbness in my arms
high lactic acid
extreme anxiety
positive autoimmune disease markers
reflux
thyroid dysfunction symptoms
pain around right implant
loose teeth
difficulty breathing
pain under shoulder blade

At 3 months post op:
chronic fatigue
muscle and joint pain
muscle spasms (improving)
insomnia (improving)
dehydration (improving)

Unchanged:
extreme weight loss
leaky gut
IBS
vision loss
parasites
diarrhea

At two weeks post op, I had 250cc of fluid drained from the right breast. This is quite common for women who explant but it’s also super painful. Drains are so important and removing them prematurely is no bueno!
When they remove the implant, the open pocket remains until the tissues heal. The body’s natural instinct is to fill the space - which is why it fills up with fluid. If I had known just how difficult and painful explant is, I might have reconsidered implants on that fact alone. No joke. It hurts THAT much.
My right side had considerably more work done to remove that implant because of the capsular contracture. Even after draining the 250cc another 50-75cc filled back up. I was lucky enough to not require it to be drained again and it resolved on it’s own.
My struggle now remains my gut health and intestinal parasites. This has been an ongoing issue since I was treated with antibiotics for the spontaneous swelling around the implant in September 2017. The constant diarrhea, food intolerances, abdominal pain and bloating, extreme weight loss and dehydration are all still severe and ongoing. I’ve had a colonoscopy, gastroscopy, CT scans, blood tests, stool samples... the tests have been endless. The only test that has given me any insight is the test that I paid for through a lab in the US. These results clearly show that I have several serious parasitic infections but no Canadian doctor that I have met with will even consider them.

So after 8 months of struggling with this, I decided to take my “friends” somewhere where they are more familiar with parasites... today I went to Mexico in search of parasite treatment. 

breast implant illness

From a healthy, thriving mom of three, wife and entrepreneur to a frail, desperate, sickly patient in a matter of 6 months. Though wheelchair bound from a spinal injury as a teen,  I was otherwise in great health prior to a breast augmentation in June 2017. ​​

After the surgery, my health slowly began to fail, starting with an unexplained seizure at the end of July 2017. Towards the end of August, I began to notice that a capsular contracture was forming on the right side, while the left had healed fine.

On September 19, the right breast started to swell rapidly. I was admitted to Humber River Hospital in Toronto that evening. IV antibiotics began almost immediately and tests were started. After 4 days in hospital, it was determined to be a spontaneous seroma, a pocket of fluid but not infection. I was advised to finish the antibiotics by IV at home and follow up to have the capsular contracture repaired. I suffered from reflux requiring medication, diarrhea and vomiting that I was told were from the antibiotics and would resolve once the course was complete.       

After leaving the hospital upon discharge, my symptoms became so severe that I had a partial rectal prolapse. I went into be seen in the emergency department.  The antibiotics were discontinued and I was given more medication and a referral to have a surgeon repair the prolapse. Other symptoms included severe mood swings, mouth ulcers, loss of appetite.

If this is starting to sound like a nightmare, it’s because it really truly was my nightmare. But also my reality. I went from being a super independent, active mama to a very dependent, weak woman that couldn't even care for her kids.  

My symptoms didn't stop when the antibiotics were discontinued and the pharmacist suggested that it may take a few days and recommended probiotics. Several times EMS were called to the house for different episodes of distress at different times of the day and night. Test after test were run.

Doctors could not explain the episodes, the results or the cause. They told me that it could be from the antibiotics but that symptoms should resolve. For months I suffered silently with chronic fatigue, headaches, muscle and joint pain, muscle spasms, cognitive dysfunction, recurring infections, unexplained sepsis, extreme weight loss, nausea, vomiting, insomnia, sudden food intolerance, heart palpitations, elevated pulse and blood pressure, dehydration, grey/black urine, low potassium, numbness in my arms, high lactic acid, extreme anxiety, leaky gut, IBS, positive autoimmune markers for celiac disease, reflux, vision loss, thyroid dysfunction symptoms, pain around right implant, loose teeth, difficulty breathing and pain under shoulder blade.

On a few occasions I was seen in emergency or by family physicians in clinic expressing the severity of the situation. Some further tests were done but no physician followed up and I began to lose hope. I was convinced that my symptoms were side effects from Ceftriaxone - the IV antibiotic given to me when I presented with the seroma - since that's when the ordeal began (not taking the seizure into account).

At the beginning of December, my plastic surgeon replaced the implant on the right side that had formed the capsule. Capsular contracture is the body's immune response to the foreign implant.  The first four days post replacement were the best four days - with the least symptoms since becoming ill. But still no one associated the implants to the illness. The war on weight loss waged on and soon nothing was appealing to my appetite. I explored gastrointestinal parasite testing in the US - desperate for answers as my body starved.

In January 2018, I became so weak that I voluntarily admitted myself to hospital for nutritional support - which backfired and left me facing more setbacks. It was after having inconclusive results from a colonoscopy and gastroscopy that I did more research on illness caused by breast implants. All my symptoms had been experienced by tens of thousands of women worldwide!

At less than two months post replacement, the right implant had already started to form capsular contracture again. It was pulled high and tight, distorting the nipple. It was quite visually apparent that the body was not accepting the foreign implant once again.

I pleaded with my plastic surgeon to remove the implants immediately before I was to weak for the surgery. The surgeon could only give a date almost two weeks later due to restrictions at that particular hospital. I feared that I would be far more weak after waiting nearly 2 weeks and that surgery would no longer be safe. Discouraged, I saw finding a surgeon in the US and paying for treatment as the only way to save my life.

How can seemingly healthy women become so ill with no other explanation other than the foreign bodies that are constructed from toxic materials implanted in their chests? If you do the research, the answers are there. Some doctors are opening the forum for discussion but NOT QUICKLY ENOUGH! Companies like Allergan (the manufacturer of my implants) are keeping people quiet - doctors and unhappy patients! Money is power. Health Canada FINALLY and reluctantly agreed that a rare Anaplastic Large Cell Lymphoma was linked to breast implants (BIA-ALCL).
Breast implants are toxic and they poison the body over time. Some people will become ill very quickly, while others will get progressively more ill over a matter of years. Often times women are misdiagnosed and in cases like this, no diagnosis is conclusively given until after the implants are removed and the patient improves.

 The very sad and scary part is that not one doctor within the local medical community recognized what was causing this illness sooner. The detox and healing from this illness is long, hard and mainly uncharted territory. My spinal cord injury makes gaining weight more difficult and will require specialized therapies. Weight loss also puts me at risk for skin breakdown so this limits my ability to be active. I will continue to fight for answers and I'm only one of a growing group of people who are questioning the safety of silicone implants.

Breast implants are not only a moral decision. So many women only consider the moral perception when considering this procedure. The medical risks are REAL and they're not well enough conveyed to society as a whole or even on an intimate patient basis. Please help us bring awareness to the dangers of Silicone Adjuvant Disease, Breast Implant Illness and Breast Implant Associated Anaplastic Large Cell Lymphoma.

Keep reading for updates ;)

fear

I have several 'started but never finished' blogs so I figured it was time to start tying up lose ends. Be patient, my health updates and awareness information for Breast Implant Illness are coming! I know y’all have questions, I will definitely answer ‘em. I thought this post was relevant for Mother's Day.

I have done what most would consider excessive amounts of self reflection over the last few months. I’ve been forced to really dig deep and process a lot of unresolved issues in order to grow and learn from this journey. I have had to set boundaries and in some instances end relationships. Both are things that I have always struggled with but I am learning now how crucial they are to healthy relationships. No relationship is perfect -  with our friends , parents, siblings, spouses, or even our children. Sometimes even the closest relationships have to come to an end in order for the people within them to grow as individuals. All this reflection has exposed the catalyst for this downward spiral. Motherhood. Now before I go any further, please let me start by saying that I would not change my children for the world or my decision to become their Mama. My babies were all welcomed and very much wanted. 

... But the transition to motherhood was one that was difficult for me. 

It’s important to understand that I was the little girl whose dream in life was to be a badass, barefoot, authentic Mama - like I remember my own! The fear of being judged by others as an unfit mother because of my disability was crushing. I think that’s where my insecurities began ruling my life. 

Ryker’s premature birth was traumatic for me. My ability to parent was instantly challenged by the hospital after his birth. My defences were evoked and from there FEAR took over. Fears of having my child - now children - taken away and losing the family that I had finally created. It was almost as though each of my pregnancies were major hurdles to overcome. I was always challenged by medical staff; who were either terrified by my spinal cord injury, thought I was living without concern for my health or didn’t support my choices. Motherhood will always be the most rewarding challenge.

I’ve realized  now that my fears have never been my own. The things that I have always been afraid of, are things that were engrained in me or imprinted on me by other people. This realization has saved my life. It is because of this realization that I am not afraid to be myself and I’m not afraid to do what I know is right. Which is particularly important right now in my healing journey. If I had listened to mainstream medical advice, I probably wouldn’t have had my implants removed and it likely would’ve cost me my life. I have personally had to make decisions that have terrified the people closest to me, as I’ve gone against doctors orders; to do what I know is right for my body.

Letting go of fears, whether they are your own or someone else’s, is essential for growth and development. If I had remained in that state of constant fear, I would not have been able to transform my life and begin to recover my health. Had I been able to let go of my fears sooner, perhaps I wouldn’t have opted for breast implants in the first place! Hindsight is always 20/20, friends. Do not waste one second living with regret. Let negative feelings ride and move forward.