Thrive

I’ve done it. Again. I’ve added a new piece of art from my personal story, onto my body and into my soul. And I couldn’t be happier about it.

On March 14, 2023 I woke up on our bedroom floor to my husband crying and shouting my name, “Amy! Amy! Wake up!!!” Sparing all of the details (you’re welcome) I’ll just give you a glimpse of the important ones. I awoke from an excruciating calf spasm, got out of bed, and the next thing I know I’m waking up in David’s arms. I don’t remember anything, but was told I was unconscious for about 2-3 minutes, after hitting my chin and head on either the bathroom sink, or floor, or possibly both??? One month later I had a severe fall down the stairs, and landed a second concussion alongside a doozy of a back injury accompanied by whiplash (enter “dent butt”… if you know, you know!!) I began developing a lot of scary, crazy, painful, weird, and unusual sensations in my body. Over the next several months my doctors ran all kinds of tests, including multiple MRI’s, bloodwork, urinalysis panels, heart, nerve, and muscular tests. I was sent to a couple of specialists, and finally received a diagnosis of Small Fiber Neuropathy (SFN). While thankful to have an “answer”, I was discouraged to find that there is no cure for the disease, only management of the symptoms through medication, physical therapy, and a good old fashioned positive attitude (oh boy…) Along with nerve pain, restless legs, “buzzing” like sensations in the body, and sharp “zaps”, I was developing a significant amount of leg and hand weakness. (Current News Flash: We still aren’t sure if the extreme weakness and fatigue are a result of the brain injury or the SFN. Most likely, its from both conditions.) Sometimes my symptoms were (and still at times, continue to be) so bad that I could barely make it up a small flight of stairs, or a simple walk around the block. I was frustrated, and often felt very hopeless. As a personal trainer, yoga teacher, active woman who LOVES to hike, walk, play sports, ride horses, dance, garden, and just move–A LOT, I felt so afraid that I was losing myself.

Breckenridge, Colorado, July 2024. Spruce Creek Trail to Upper Mohawk Lake. 8.4 Mile hike with an elevation gain of 2,106 feet. Estimated time to hike is 3-4 hours.

Me: “YES! I told you I CAN DO it! I CAN hike up to the upper lake! I WANT to do it! I want to see it so bad.”

David: “Okay, babe. Okay. Let’s just remember that your legs aren’t feeling as strong as they used to, and this will be really hard. I don’t want you to risk falling…getting stuck…getting injured, etc.”

Me: “Oh, come on! I’ll be FINE! I’ll just go slow when I need to. I’ll take breaks. I promise. I don’t wanna miss out.”

Approximate start time: 11:00am. Approximate finish time: 5:00pm.

Throughout the hike I kept being drawn to all of the beauty surrounding me. I was most inspired by the wildflowers. Here we are coming up a steep incline of slippery, narrow, dusty rock and “BOOP!” there’s a beautiful stand-alone wildflower. (“Keep going, Amy. You got this.”) A few yards later, my legs are burning, and weak. I want to stop, but don’t want to hold the group up. Around the next crevice I spy a stunning small patch of wildflowers growing from a dry crack in the earth in the shaded part of the rock overhang. (“It’s okay to take a break. I know how hard you’re working. Rest for a bit.”) Gaining energy, and inspiration from the earth, and lots of encouragement from my family, I continue piecing more of these thoughts together. (“I can can do this. I can do this. I can thrive in harsh situations. I can push upward.”)

Our journey took twice as long as it should have. I was completely and totally wiped out, and could barely walk DOWN the last mile or so (this took maybe 45 minutes extra, or more) I was fried. But I was so happy. The views are unexplainable, and simply breath-taking. I saw so much beauty. We even had the honor of sharing our hike with a rarely seen mountain goat munching and climbing along her way very close to our path. My husband and family were so patient and helpful. My stubbornness prevailed, yet I also felt safe in that I had nothing to prove. A weird combo in my daily life that I’m still wrestling with…

Nature is cyclical. In order for plants, trees, grass, and flowers to continue to grow and thrive they must have a recharge cycle. They MUST rest. Take daffodils for instance. Once their bright yellow blooms fade and die off, the green leaves and stems begin to do the same. During this fading and quieting process they are actually absorbing the sun’s light and the earth’s nutrients in order to store up energy for their next season of bright beauty. I’m learning to do the same. I am, and always have been, one to push through activities physically. I’ll push through pain, frustration, and difficulty in order to finish, complete the task, and to win. This drive has, and I’m sure will continue to serve me at times. However, I’m learning that, like nature, I MUST rest. I must take breaks. I must recharge. When I received the diagnosis of SFN and continued to struggle with post-concussion symptoms, I kept thinking, “Why can’t I push through this? Why can’t I tough this out? Will I be like this forever? Am I fighting a losing battle? Nah…I’ll ‘get better’ soon.” Enter the resilient and strong, yet tender and delicate wildflower. I am reminded that she can THRIVE in some of the harshest of environments and weather conditions. She is sturdy and resilient. She is also soft, beautiful, and graceful. Nature, the home for wildflowers, provides clarity and hope.

I’ve always been drawn to flowers. As a kid my Grandma Mary taught me so much about their worth. Through her eyes I noticed, and was taught and shown by example, how to respect and appreciate their radiant splendor. On roadtrips we would pick from alongside the interstates, and press the flowers in between the pages of books. She had so many plants, and flowers in her home, and in her garden. I remember many of them vividly. My parents, too, instilled a love a nature in me at a very young age. I think I was barefoot outside in the summer the majority of my days spending my time in the dirt and grass. My Grandma Wilma was a very talented artist, and china painting was her specialty. She gifted me with 12 hand painted china place settings–each set showcasing a different, beautifully painted flower or grouping of flowers. It’s clearly in my nature (and also through much nurture) that I’ve grown to love the earth, and all of her essence. I once heard a friend say that she was a “vitamin D chaser”. This really resonated with me. I feel the most alive when I am outdoors and in the sunshine.

A few years back, David completed the Rim to Rim hike in the Grand Canyon, and quickly befriended Lillian. As the owner, creator, and artist behind her company ‘Of the Valley’, Lillian is a brilliant woman. She is one of the most genuinely kind, down to earth, and lovely humans I’ve ever met. I asked Lillian to help me design my tattoo, and she ABSOLUTELY KNOCKED IT OUT OF THE PARK! Thanks to her amazing interview process, detailed research, compassionate demeanor, and mind blowing talent, she lovingly conceived and drew the design, as well as compiled the following statements surrounding each element in the tattoo. (Ironically enough, I have each of these flowers growing somewhere in my yard. Or, is it ironic???)

The Sun-Representing the hope and promise of a new tomorrow and the life force that fuels all living beings to thrive

Purple Bean Hyacinth-Representing beauty and abundance

Xenia- The pillar-anchor, representing endurance

Coreopsis- Representing joy, the bud representing goodness yet to come

Little Goldstar Black-eyed Susan- Representing encouragement, motivation, and justice

Ice Plant- Representing resilience and adaptability

Earth/Roots- The substance from which we all come and will return to…in which we are rooted and secure. The crack representing the seemingly impossible circumstances from which we grow

I will always have to deal with the symptoms and struggles of small fiber neuropathy. I most likely will continue to bump up against the long-term effects of my brain injury, as well. I refuse to let these circumstances define me. I will not allow myself to give up, or give in to the frustration and difficulties that these conditions present. I will be reminded of the wildflower. I will choose to dig deep down into my roots when I need to find strength. I will push towards the sun when I feel downtrodden, and low. I will soften like the petals of a flower when I’m being hard on myself. I will push and grow upward in times of adversity and difficulty. I will keep practicing how to rest and slow down so that I can recharge in order to flourish. I. Will. THRIVE.