The last we left off, was with Anxiety Wine Pairings... now it is the beginning of June and it seems a whole new world. Physical Therapy has proven helpful and I am becoming less of a marionette, liable to fall apart with the slightest breeze, however the past month has not been easy.
A few weeks ago, a young boy had a tragic accident. Out of respect for the family I will leave the details out of this post. All I will say is that you never know when it could be the last time you hug your loved ones. As a mother of a similarly aged boy, my empathy for his mother is enough to break my soul; the family is in crushing pain. If you can help, please contribute to GoFundMe by clicking here.
Attempting to not wallow in the depths of darkness, it seems to be a good time to check in with our own families, take an inventory of how everyone is doing and start a conversation about how to handle our feelings and share them. My personal family had to start this process as my health sharply declined last year and I had to have the most difficult conversation of all time with my 10 year old son... you will be ok if mommy isn't here with you. Man just typing that made my throat swell shut and tears spring to my eyes. Needless to say it put every moment of holding hands to cross a street, every head slumped on my shoulder while watching a movie, every single "I love you" into blazing clarity. After this recent tragic event, it has given these treasured moments even more weight; parents aren't suppose to lose their children. It isn't easy, but we have started having the super scary discussions about depression and suicide and teenage hormones. I'm pretty sure Nightmare on Elm Street's Freddy Kruger would even be terrified of these talks.
It can feel daunting to speak about the things that scare us the most, it seems easier to work a little more, add an extra activity to the schedule, take the smiles at face value and call it ok, but what if it isn't? As I head back to work full time and an event season for the winery that is dizzying, I try to remember to slow down, not to lose the incredible insight I've garnered, but I find my instincts are to allow distraction to take precedence. Like a mantra I keep repeating 'slow down', something I've never been good at.
And so this summer stretches out in front of us full of uncharted territory. Always remembering to stop and slowly sip your wine.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
Running on Wine; from Marathons to Rafting to "Fueling" on the Patio, We are Fueled by Vivác.
Tuesday, June 6, 2017
Thursday, April 20, 2017
Anxiety Wine Pairings
Anxiety wine pairings...this is not for people that have anxiety ABOUT pairing wines, this is for people that suffer from anxiety and need wine. Anxiety pairs with pretty much any wine you can drink in copious amounts, of course I am a professional so that means literally any wine I can get my hands on. Only problem is the medication I was on to pull my cortisol levels down and return me to a human being, was extremely hard on my liver meaning I have to be super careful with adding alcohol back into my diet...which causes my anxiety to rise. Sounds like a fun merry-go-round doesn't it?
Why are you so full of anxiety you ask? Didn't that tumor in your head shrink and haven't you started feeling good? YES and yes, but due to the mega amount of cortisol that made itself at home in my body for a year and a half (tumor had my body make excess cortisol and not dump used cortisol so a 6-19 normal range for cortisol became 47 for me); that cortisol then damaged my tendons and ligaments...all of them. I feel like a marionette liable to break free from its strings and fall into a heap on the floor. Let's face it, with the ankle sprain that tore 2 tendons and ruptured 2 ligaments completely, coupled with the dislocated shoulder from doing practically nothing, that is a close reality.
I am now clunking around in the boot the doctor gave me to help my ankle, giving me a lopsided hobble that puts stress on my hips, knees and supporting ankle...just waiting for the strings of one of these spots to break free too. I also worry about the possibility to actually heal these injuries. See the cortisol damaging the ligaments and tendons also makes it take longer to heal. If I am not properly healing, then surgery will need to happen to reconnect the ruptured ligaments. An MRI will determine if significant damage was done to my shoulder which then could result in surgery as well. My body is just so damned excited about having surgery that evidently when the brain surgery was put on the back burner (if the tumor starts to grow, surgery is a possibility once again) that it is having a party trying to get me on that operating table! Feeling like a bottle of wine a day for each individual injury should be mandatory, don't you agree?
Then, my son got sick. A strange cold of sorts that has given him headaches and a bout of the crummies. I THINK I may be catching his bug, a headache has attacked me, but having a headache sends me into a panic that would rival a tsunami warning for someone living beach side. I try to relax, but evil thoughts swarm inside my head like a beehive "Maybe it's back! Maybe it's growing! Maybe you are getting sick again!". Headaches should not be this stressful. Surely an additional bottle of wine daily should be prescribed. Oh and I can't sleep due to all my crazy thoughts so probably another bottle for that. What are we up to? 4 bottles a day? Sounds like liver failure for sure. Great another stressful thought.
So back to anxiety pairings: a bright light wine like our Gruner Veltliner should start off your morning. Something happy you know? Then mid-morning a lighter bodied red, like our Pinot Noir, it can even be served slightly chilled making it a perfect choice for running from your problems. This will be followed by our Divino red wine blend, because your anxiety levels at this point in the day are driving you to start praying to the heavens for help. And finally our Diavolo red wine blend in the evening, because after a day of juggling depressing thoughts and surges of adrenaline from the anxiety, you feel like you are in hell. Big bold reds also are equivalent to comfort food so you can have it as dinner and not feel guilty. Oh wait we need to add in a glass of our port style wine Amante (not a bottle, a glass! See how restrained I am?) with cheese because you skipped dinner. I don't know if that cures anxiety, but you'd be so drunk you probably wouldn't care. We can call it the anxiety medicine diet. The word medicine makes it not just OK, but good for you.
Not being able to drink all this delicious "medicine" makes me mad all over again at that bitch cortisol. Man who knew a hormone could reek such havoc? I should probably create a pairing for punching cortisol in the face. Wouldn't that be great if drinking a specific wine was actually like physically punching your problem in the face? Well, and not make you a raging alcoholic of course.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Why are you so full of anxiety you ask? Didn't that tumor in your head shrink and haven't you started feeling good? YES and yes, but due to the mega amount of cortisol that made itself at home in my body for a year and a half (tumor had my body make excess cortisol and not dump used cortisol so a 6-19 normal range for cortisol became 47 for me); that cortisol then damaged my tendons and ligaments...all of them. I feel like a marionette liable to break free from its strings and fall into a heap on the floor. Let's face it, with the ankle sprain that tore 2 tendons and ruptured 2 ligaments completely, coupled with the dislocated shoulder from doing practically nothing, that is a close reality.
I am now clunking around in the boot the doctor gave me to help my ankle, giving me a lopsided hobble that puts stress on my hips, knees and supporting ankle...just waiting for the strings of one of these spots to break free too. I also worry about the possibility to actually heal these injuries. See the cortisol damaging the ligaments and tendons also makes it take longer to heal. If I am not properly healing, then surgery will need to happen to reconnect the ruptured ligaments. An MRI will determine if significant damage was done to my shoulder which then could result in surgery as well. My body is just so damned excited about having surgery that evidently when the brain surgery was put on the back burner (if the tumor starts to grow, surgery is a possibility once again) that it is having a party trying to get me on that operating table! Feeling like a bottle of wine a day for each individual injury should be mandatory, don't you agree?
Then, my son got sick. A strange cold of sorts that has given him headaches and a bout of the crummies. I THINK I may be catching his bug, a headache has attacked me, but having a headache sends me into a panic that would rival a tsunami warning for someone living beach side. I try to relax, but evil thoughts swarm inside my head like a beehive "Maybe it's back! Maybe it's growing! Maybe you are getting sick again!". Headaches should not be this stressful. Surely an additional bottle of wine daily should be prescribed. Oh and I can't sleep due to all my crazy thoughts so probably another bottle for that. What are we up to? 4 bottles a day? Sounds like liver failure for sure. Great another stressful thought.
So back to anxiety pairings: a bright light wine like our Gruner Veltliner should start off your morning. Something happy you know? Then mid-morning a lighter bodied red, like our Pinot Noir, it can even be served slightly chilled making it a perfect choice for running from your problems. This will be followed by our Divino red wine blend, because your anxiety levels at this point in the day are driving you to start praying to the heavens for help. And finally our Diavolo red wine blend in the evening, because after a day of juggling depressing thoughts and surges of adrenaline from the anxiety, you feel like you are in hell. Big bold reds also are equivalent to comfort food so you can have it as dinner and not feel guilty. Oh wait we need to add in a glass of our port style wine Amante (not a bottle, a glass! See how restrained I am?) with cheese because you skipped dinner. I don't know if that cures anxiety, but you'd be so drunk you probably wouldn't care. We can call it the anxiety medicine diet. The word medicine makes it not just OK, but good for you.
Not being able to drink all this delicious "medicine" makes me mad all over again at that bitch cortisol. Man who knew a hormone could reek such havoc? I should probably create a pairing for punching cortisol in the face. Wouldn't that be great if drinking a specific wine was actually like physically punching your problem in the face? Well, and not make you a raging alcoholic of course.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
Pushing it to the Limit
After the health problems of this past year, I jumped at the opportunity to take sailing classes in San Carlos, Mexico. My winemaker husband and his brother (co-winemaker) have had the dream of sailing since they were kids...ok they really had the dream of being pirates, but this is the 1st step. As my health deteriorated this past year and possible brain surgery loomed menacingly over us, we took to writing a bucket list...a list we would attack as soon as I was better. After the meds started helping me feel better and the brain tumor reduced in size, we took "seize the day" to a very literal meaning and got on a boat immediately. I am done being afraid. I am done putting work 1st and waiting for the right time to hit that bucket list. I am done putting things off for a future time. The future is too unpredictable.
Having extremely limited experience on a sailboat, myself, my husband, his brother and my sister-in-law all embarked on this adventure with a little trepidation. The class was rigorous and 2 of the days hailed 30 mile per hour winds which in turn gave us 6 foot waves and a " A Perfect Storm" kind of thrill ride few have had. As I scream/ laughed while hanging onto boat rigging so I would literally not fall out of the boat as it heaved onto its side, waves slapped my face and life sparkled so bright in contrast to the dark clouds overhead that it took my breath away.
As I type this, tears spring to my eyes. It is difficult to express the intensity of emotions this past year has given me and to be with my family, on a boat, doing something so wild, gave me the deepest heart wrenching appreciation to be alive and feeling good. It may seem overly dramatic to be sitting in a cafe crying over how special a violent sailing experience was, my husband certainly would say I am overreacting, but I can't help feeling overtly happy at the simple fact that I feel good again. It is amazing how we take our health for granted. We stress over silly things and complain when our bodies are anything but perfect. When I compare the pain I experienced this past year, the level of sickness, it rivals a severely sprained ankle or a dislocated shoulder.
I would like to add at this time that I severely sprained my ankle and also dislocated my shoulder while on this trip to Mexico.
A walking catastrophe, I stupidly jumped off the sailboat and onto the dock, not at the safely appointed side-stays, but an aft portion of the boat, and onto a docking cleat. Please take a moment to note and appreciate all the sailing terms I just used. My ankle rolled and the instant pain of it made me sit down then and there on the dock in a daze. My leg from the knee down turned purple. It was lovely. The searing pain that pulsed through my ankle was multiplied by limping around on it. A deep burning sensation punctuated by a piercing pain became my existence. All the while, due to the medication I have been on, I could not take ANY pain pills or have any alcohol. I seriously wanted a glass of wine too. BUT, even with this pain, it was nothing compared to the pain of a brain tumor.
As I limped around, using my arms as crutches...because why would I actually go to a doctor right away and get crutches? I found myself in an awkward position trying to maneuver in a tight space, favoring my injured ankle and pushing myself up to standing...I dislocated my shoulder. I know, WTH?
With my left shoulder slumped and a bone oddly protruding forward under the skin, I attempted to move my suddenly paralyzed left arm with my right hand; the sharp pain shot like lightening through my shoulder. When I woke up, evidently having passed out from the pain, I woke my husband for help. He quickly YouTubed diagnosing a dislocated shoulder and how to reset it. painfully laying me out on the bed, sweat beading up on my forehead, my dedicated hubby braced one foot flat against my rib cage and grabbed my left arm. The 1st couple times he maneuvered my arm, I moaned in deep pain, but being that it was 2am in a house full of sleeping family members, I did not scream, I quietly pleaded that he keep trying. 3rd time was the charm and I instantly could move my left hand again. This extreme pain still has nothing on a brain tumor.
So back to the overly dramatic description of our sailing adventure. I think I have adequately demonstrated that I am NOT an over-reactor since it is clear that I can seriously keep my cool. I bandaged my ankle, put my arm in a sling and finished the last 2 days of sailing classes. Luckily some of the "jobs" on a boat can be done seated with one arm. Ya, I think I earned my pirate badge. Actually my sister-in-law had gotten a terrible eye infection days earlier so between us, we made the perfect pirate: eye patch and peg leg CHECK!
The sea may have calmed as we completed the course, but the bright sparkle of life, enthusiasm, joy and love continued to rise in me. Perhaps that is why I am pulled to cry, as if all the awe for being healthy and alive is pushing the joy right up and out of my eyes.
Enough of the corny, inspirational poster talk and more of the pirate! Let's buy a boat...arrrr! I think I've earned one.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Having extremely limited experience on a sailboat, myself, my husband, his brother and my sister-in-law all embarked on this adventure with a little trepidation. The class was rigorous and 2 of the days hailed 30 mile per hour winds which in turn gave us 6 foot waves and a " A Perfect Storm" kind of thrill ride few have had. As I scream/ laughed while hanging onto boat rigging so I would literally not fall out of the boat as it heaved onto its side, waves slapped my face and life sparkled so bright in contrast to the dark clouds overhead that it took my breath away.
As I type this, tears spring to my eyes. It is difficult to express the intensity of emotions this past year has given me and to be with my family, on a boat, doing something so wild, gave me the deepest heart wrenching appreciation to be alive and feeling good. It may seem overly dramatic to be sitting in a cafe crying over how special a violent sailing experience was, my husband certainly would say I am overreacting, but I can't help feeling overtly happy at the simple fact that I feel good again. It is amazing how we take our health for granted. We stress over silly things and complain when our bodies are anything but perfect. When I compare the pain I experienced this past year, the level of sickness, it rivals a severely sprained ankle or a dislocated shoulder.
I would like to add at this time that I severely sprained my ankle and also dislocated my shoulder while on this trip to Mexico.
A walking catastrophe, I stupidly jumped off the sailboat and onto the dock, not at the safely appointed side-stays, but an aft portion of the boat, and onto a docking cleat. Please take a moment to note and appreciate all the sailing terms I just used. My ankle rolled and the instant pain of it made me sit down then and there on the dock in a daze. My leg from the knee down turned purple. It was lovely. The searing pain that pulsed through my ankle was multiplied by limping around on it. A deep burning sensation punctuated by a piercing pain became my existence. All the while, due to the medication I have been on, I could not take ANY pain pills or have any alcohol. I seriously wanted a glass of wine too. BUT, even with this pain, it was nothing compared to the pain of a brain tumor.
As I limped around, using my arms as crutches...because why would I actually go to a doctor right away and get crutches? I found myself in an awkward position trying to maneuver in a tight space, favoring my injured ankle and pushing myself up to standing...I dislocated my shoulder. I know, WTH?
With my left shoulder slumped and a bone oddly protruding forward under the skin, I attempted to move my suddenly paralyzed left arm with my right hand; the sharp pain shot like lightening through my shoulder. When I woke up, evidently having passed out from the pain, I woke my husband for help. He quickly YouTubed diagnosing a dislocated shoulder and how to reset it. painfully laying me out on the bed, sweat beading up on my forehead, my dedicated hubby braced one foot flat against my rib cage and grabbed my left arm. The 1st couple times he maneuvered my arm, I moaned in deep pain, but being that it was 2am in a house full of sleeping family members, I did not scream, I quietly pleaded that he keep trying. 3rd time was the charm and I instantly could move my left hand again. This extreme pain still has nothing on a brain tumor.
So back to the overly dramatic description of our sailing adventure. I think I have adequately demonstrated that I am NOT an over-reactor since it is clear that I can seriously keep my cool. I bandaged my ankle, put my arm in a sling and finished the last 2 days of sailing classes. Luckily some of the "jobs" on a boat can be done seated with one arm. Ya, I think I earned my pirate badge. Actually my sister-in-law had gotten a terrible eye infection days earlier so between us, we made the perfect pirate: eye patch and peg leg CHECK!
The sea may have calmed as we completed the course, but the bright sparkle of life, enthusiasm, joy and love continued to rise in me. Perhaps that is why I am pulled to cry, as if all the awe for being healthy and alive is pushing the joy right up and out of my eyes.
Enough of the corny, inspirational poster talk and more of the pirate! Let's buy a boat...arrrr! I think I've earned one.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Monday, February 13, 2017
The Valentine's Day Wine List You Actually Need
Let's face it, Valentine's Day is not friendly to most people, either you hold your significant other to an impossibly high standard that is a set-up to fail or you are single and it is suddenly glaringly obvious you are alone. No matter what your situation is, it is best to avoid the drama and take care of yourself. After all, if you don't love yourself, how can anyone else love you? And love is always shown in wine.
Valentine's Day Vivac Wine Pairings:
Vivac Chenin Blanc (wht) - to brighten your day, maybe even drink it in the morning?
buy Vivac Chenin Blanc now
Vivac Chardonnay (wht) - the creaminess will sooth your nerves as people post obnoxious photos of their Valentine's Day treats on social media.
buy Vivac Chardonnay now
Vivac Pinot Noir (red) - because gosh darn, you deserve it!
buy Vivac Pinot now
Vivac Cabernet Sauvignon (red) - you have to have your chocolate with wine don't you?
buy Vivac Cab now
Vivac Divino (red) - a wow wine to really impress yourself with. "oh self, you shouldn't have!"
buy Vivac Divino red blend now
Vivac Late Harvest Riesling (dessert) - pairing it with strawberries means it has no calories and the smaller bottle means you don't have to feel bad for drinking the whole thing by yourself.
buy Vivac Late Harvest now
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Valentine's Day Vivac Wine Pairings:
Vivac Chenin Blanc (wht) - to brighten your day, maybe even drink it in the morning?
buy Vivac Chenin Blanc now
Vivac Chardonnay (wht) - the creaminess will sooth your nerves as people post obnoxious photos of their Valentine's Day treats on social media.
buy Vivac Chardonnay now
Vivac Pinot Noir (red) - because gosh darn, you deserve it!
buy Vivac Pinot now
buy Vivac Cab now
Vivac Divino (red) - a wow wine to really impress yourself with. "oh self, you shouldn't have!"
buy Vivac Divino red blend now
Vivac Late Harvest Riesling (dessert) - pairing it with strawberries means it has no calories and the smaller bottle means you don't have to feel bad for drinking the whole thing by yourself.
buy Vivac Late Harvest now
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
Feisty Feisty Feisty!
Welcome to 2017 and a very feisty me!
Going without wine can make people feisty. Maybe that's it? When I started on this new medication to assist the symptoms of my brain tumor, I knew I was agreeing to a sad road of zero wine for 12 weeks. For some that wouldn't seem like much, for me, one of the owners of a winery, that sounded like a death sentence.
6 weeks into the medication and I am starting to feel a little relief, more energy and my body is starting to return to a recognizable shape. Maybe the relief from the constant sickness has made me feisty?
Living without wine has been interesting, but not in the way I had thought. I hadn't been drinking all that much prior to starting the meds simply because most of the time I was too sick to have any, yet out of habit, I think of a glass of wine at the end of the day. Heading out to a special dinner, I think of the celebration wines to be opened. Every time I open my refrigerator I instinctively grab a bottle of wine. But I don't actually crave it. I miss it like an old friend I only now get to skype with, but my life has gone on fine without it. Maybe changing an ingrained habit has made me feisty?
WARNING: I am not recommending going without wine! As one of the owners of Vivac Winery, I have to take a moment to say, all people should be drinking wine because it reduces stress, is good for your heath and makes you smarter. That last one might be my opinion, but you should regard my opinion as fact.
What has been surprising is that zero booze doesn't mean zero hangover. I still wake up with a blistering headache and nausea every morning. Could headaches be making me feisty? I'm also surprised at people's reaction to me not drinking. It's as if I have checked into rehab. People are panicky and uncomfortable as if I may, in my lack of wine craze, freak out and slap their wine out of their hands and scream nonsense at them. I swear I don't do that. However, in my new feisty mood, I do think that would be really funny to do. I also find it interesting that people are sure that I could make an exception "just this once" yet I have liver failure as a possibility if I do...even I don't love wine THAT much! Maybe it is the reactions I'm getting from people that's making me feisty?
A final surprise has been the idea that I can't do my job without drinking. Scheduled meetings that find out I am not drinking offer to reschedule for a time after I can drink again. Family members have worried about how I would have to compensate for the lack of drinking. Funny thing is, other than my memory issues, due to my brain tumor, my wine knowledge is locked in my head and accessible to me even when I'm NOT drinking wine. I know it IS amazing. I'm probably part unicorn. Maybe that's why I'm so feisty, I have a unicorn horn growing out of my forehead?
Lots of people are also sure that the lack of booze is why my body is finally returning to a somewhat normal shape. But before the meds, I wasn't drinking much AND I was vomiting profusely. I managed to continue carrying the pregnancy belly, have a flattened pig face and gain weight uncontrollably. These are the symptoms of the illness and not body dysmorphia. It is a fact that that is what happened to my body, yet talking about it makes people so uncomfortable! I've never been told so much, how important it is to "love my body", as if noting changes and feeling good with the loss of symptoms that made me self conscious, unhappy and uncomfortable translates to hating my body. Maybe the frustration is making me feisty?
Needless to say, the feisty new me knows that life is too short and too unpredictable to be caught up in these things. I will have to watch this brain tumor for the rest of my life, and it is a gift. This past year, I had to learn to delegate, how to appreciate little wins and to focus on hugging and kissing those I love as much as possible. Because this thing could start growing again, I will always be forced to make choices based on the now. How many people have the luck to live life that conscious of life's precarious nature? Well I do and it has made me feisty!
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Going without wine can make people feisty. Maybe that's it? When I started on this new medication to assist the symptoms of my brain tumor, I knew I was agreeing to a sad road of zero wine for 12 weeks. For some that wouldn't seem like much, for me, one of the owners of a winery, that sounded like a death sentence.
6 weeks into the medication and I am starting to feel a little relief, more energy and my body is starting to return to a recognizable shape. Maybe the relief from the constant sickness has made me feisty?
Living without wine has been interesting, but not in the way I had thought. I hadn't been drinking all that much prior to starting the meds simply because most of the time I was too sick to have any, yet out of habit, I think of a glass of wine at the end of the day. Heading out to a special dinner, I think of the celebration wines to be opened. Every time I open my refrigerator I instinctively grab a bottle of wine. But I don't actually crave it. I miss it like an old friend I only now get to skype with, but my life has gone on fine without it. Maybe changing an ingrained habit has made me feisty?
WARNING: I am not recommending going without wine! As one of the owners of Vivac Winery, I have to take a moment to say, all people should be drinking wine because it reduces stress, is good for your heath and makes you smarter. That last one might be my opinion, but you should regard my opinion as fact.
What has been surprising is that zero booze doesn't mean zero hangover. I still wake up with a blistering headache and nausea every morning. Could headaches be making me feisty? I'm also surprised at people's reaction to me not drinking. It's as if I have checked into rehab. People are panicky and uncomfortable as if I may, in my lack of wine craze, freak out and slap their wine out of their hands and scream nonsense at them. I swear I don't do that. However, in my new feisty mood, I do think that would be really funny to do. I also find it interesting that people are sure that I could make an exception "just this once" yet I have liver failure as a possibility if I do...even I don't love wine THAT much! Maybe it is the reactions I'm getting from people that's making me feisty?
A final surprise has been the idea that I can't do my job without drinking. Scheduled meetings that find out I am not drinking offer to reschedule for a time after I can drink again. Family members have worried about how I would have to compensate for the lack of drinking. Funny thing is, other than my memory issues, due to my brain tumor, my wine knowledge is locked in my head and accessible to me even when I'm NOT drinking wine. I know it IS amazing. I'm probably part unicorn. Maybe that's why I'm so feisty, I have a unicorn horn growing out of my forehead?
Lots of people are also sure that the lack of booze is why my body is finally returning to a somewhat normal shape. But before the meds, I wasn't drinking much AND I was vomiting profusely. I managed to continue carrying the pregnancy belly, have a flattened pig face and gain weight uncontrollably. These are the symptoms of the illness and not body dysmorphia. It is a fact that that is what happened to my body, yet talking about it makes people so uncomfortable! I've never been told so much, how important it is to "love my body", as if noting changes and feeling good with the loss of symptoms that made me self conscious, unhappy and uncomfortable translates to hating my body. Maybe the frustration is making me feisty?
Needless to say, the feisty new me knows that life is too short and too unpredictable to be caught up in these things. I will have to watch this brain tumor for the rest of my life, and it is a gift. This past year, I had to learn to delegate, how to appreciate little wins and to focus on hugging and kissing those I love as much as possible. Because this thing could start growing again, I will always be forced to make choices based on the now. How many people have the luck to live life that conscious of life's precarious nature? Well I do and it has made me feisty!
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Friday, January 6, 2017
New Year, New Me
2016 came with many challenges, for some the year was glorious, for many it was torturous. As you all have followed my torture, I failed to update you with the way the year ended.
I have had a frustrating journey from diagnosis of a tumor on my pituitary, symptoms mounting and a crew of Doctors that couldn't figure out what to do with me. While the symptoms said 'tumor on the pituitary' and the MRI showed a 'tumor on the pituitary', treatment was NOT that easy. They just do not want to mess with the brain if they can at all avoid it. A news flash for me since all of my TV and movie expertise left me thinking brain surgery was an everyday occurrence. That being said, I am now very familiar with protocol around the brain and the various specialists, Hollywood should really hire me to consult on movies and shows, they get a lot wrong.
I digress, the point is, it has been a painful, long, scary journey, so when one specialist suggested we try a trial of a drug that had a 50/50 chance of helping, I said HELL YES! When they said absolutely zero alcohol, I still said HELL YES! When they said, seriously, no wine...at all...for the entire 12 weeks. I still said HELL YES! And then the world ended. OK, the world didn't end, but it did seemed apocalyptic as friends and family frantically worried about my lack of wine intake. It was almost as if everyone thought I was the wine vampire and without wine, I would literally shrivel up and die.
As the 2nd week on this medication comes to an end, I haven't had a drop of alcohol and haven't missed it either. Truth is, I wasn't drinking that much for a while now, I just felt so ill I couldn't. The down side is that I still wake up with horrific headaches, nausea and body pain, which doesn't seem fair. BUT I am starting to see glimmers of positive results that encourage me to continue. I'm still no where near going out for a jog, but I woke up the other day happy, a 1st in a long long time.
2017 seemed to be like a magic switch. After a fun filled, alcohol free New Years Eve (I had no idea that sentence could exist prior to this experience), I optimistically looked to the future. That's when I got the results from my recent MRI.
A few days before NYE, I went in for a new MRI. My limbs had started to fall asleep intermittently throughout the day and a new type of headache was added to the mix. Now along with my regular, all day long headaches, I have a piercing stab that occurs at the right temple and rounds over the eyebrow and deep into the eye socket at the bridge of my nose. I was pretty sure the tumor had probably doubled in size and that this would be the solid proof that we needed to go in and get that sucker. I have battled the pain and agony of this for so long that I actually excitedly looked forward to brain surgery. 2016 was desperate times.
The MRI had been a pain in the ass just like everything else in 2016. The computer went down after 90% completion of the test resulting in me spending an additional 20 mins stuck in the tiny tube, cage mask clamped over my face and the same 5 John Denver songs playing on a never ending loop. It was the longest hour of my life. I hate John Denver.
On New Years Day, I looked forward to a year that would offer me a solution.
On New Years Day, I found out that "the tumor has infarcted (loss of blood supply), and partially necrossed (died) therefore decreasing is size and function". Also my football team, the Giants, won. It was a big day.
I'll give you a moment to let this information soak in.
I didn't even know what to do with this information. I sat, numb and bewildered. Just as strange was the appearance of this thing as its shrinkage. Just as confusing as well. Why do I still feel like crap? Do I keep taking these crazy meds? Will it disappear completely? Will it come back?
Not all of these questions can be answered, but I will stay on the medication, which is a cortisol inhibitor (which is what is actually causing these terrible symptoms) and in combination with the shrinking tumor, should result in a dramatic drop in cortisol and me feeling better. No surgery.
I'm afraid of getting my hopes up that I am "cured". Hope feels foreign to me. Until I feel myself again, I probably won't believe it. I'm also plagued with other new emotions. For the 1st time, I've felt angry. Angry that this happened, that my loved ones had to suffer through this, that I've had to experience this at all. But more than anything, I'm relieved. Relieved that my body will start to feel like my own soon. Relieved that I don't have to risk becoming blind during the surgery or die. Relieved that I get to have many more healthy years with my incredible family, with my heart and soul, my son. Relieved that this horror is coming to an end.
Now I need to find something GREAT to toast with for when I'm off the meds and can celebrate. Seems this New Year, really will be a new me.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
I have had a frustrating journey from diagnosis of a tumor on my pituitary, symptoms mounting and a crew of Doctors that couldn't figure out what to do with me. While the symptoms said 'tumor on the pituitary' and the MRI showed a 'tumor on the pituitary', treatment was NOT that easy. They just do not want to mess with the brain if they can at all avoid it. A news flash for me since all of my TV and movie expertise left me thinking brain surgery was an everyday occurrence. That being said, I am now very familiar with protocol around the brain and the various specialists, Hollywood should really hire me to consult on movies and shows, they get a lot wrong.
I digress, the point is, it has been a painful, long, scary journey, so when one specialist suggested we try a trial of a drug that had a 50/50 chance of helping, I said HELL YES! When they said absolutely zero alcohol, I still said HELL YES! When they said, seriously, no wine...at all...for the entire 12 weeks. I still said HELL YES! And then the world ended. OK, the world didn't end, but it did seemed apocalyptic as friends and family frantically worried about my lack of wine intake. It was almost as if everyone thought I was the wine vampire and without wine, I would literally shrivel up and die.
As the 2nd week on this medication comes to an end, I haven't had a drop of alcohol and haven't missed it either. Truth is, I wasn't drinking that much for a while now, I just felt so ill I couldn't. The down side is that I still wake up with horrific headaches, nausea and body pain, which doesn't seem fair. BUT I am starting to see glimmers of positive results that encourage me to continue. I'm still no where near going out for a jog, but I woke up the other day happy, a 1st in a long long time.
2017 seemed to be like a magic switch. After a fun filled, alcohol free New Years Eve (I had no idea that sentence could exist prior to this experience), I optimistically looked to the future. That's when I got the results from my recent MRI.
A few days before NYE, I went in for a new MRI. My limbs had started to fall asleep intermittently throughout the day and a new type of headache was added to the mix. Now along with my regular, all day long headaches, I have a piercing stab that occurs at the right temple and rounds over the eyebrow and deep into the eye socket at the bridge of my nose. I was pretty sure the tumor had probably doubled in size and that this would be the solid proof that we needed to go in and get that sucker. I have battled the pain and agony of this for so long that I actually excitedly looked forward to brain surgery. 2016 was desperate times.
The MRI had been a pain in the ass just like everything else in 2016. The computer went down after 90% completion of the test resulting in me spending an additional 20 mins stuck in the tiny tube, cage mask clamped over my face and the same 5 John Denver songs playing on a never ending loop. It was the longest hour of my life. I hate John Denver.
On New Years Day, I looked forward to a year that would offer me a solution.
On New Years Day, I found out that "the tumor has infarcted (loss of blood supply), and partially necrossed (died) therefore decreasing is size and function". Also my football team, the Giants, won. It was a big day.
I'll give you a moment to let this information soak in.
I didn't even know what to do with this information. I sat, numb and bewildered. Just as strange was the appearance of this thing as its shrinkage. Just as confusing as well. Why do I still feel like crap? Do I keep taking these crazy meds? Will it disappear completely? Will it come back?
Not all of these questions can be answered, but I will stay on the medication, which is a cortisol inhibitor (which is what is actually causing these terrible symptoms) and in combination with the shrinking tumor, should result in a dramatic drop in cortisol and me feeling better. No surgery.
I'm afraid of getting my hopes up that I am "cured". Hope feels foreign to me. Until I feel myself again, I probably won't believe it. I'm also plagued with other new emotions. For the 1st time, I've felt angry. Angry that this happened, that my loved ones had to suffer through this, that I've had to experience this at all. But more than anything, I'm relieved. Relieved that my body will start to feel like my own soon. Relieved that I don't have to risk becoming blind during the surgery or die. Relieved that I get to have many more healthy years with my incredible family, with my heart and soul, my son. Relieved that this horror is coming to an end.
Now I need to find something GREAT to toast with for when I'm off the meds and can celebrate. Seems this New Year, really will be a new me.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
Monday, December 19, 2016
Trial and Error
I think most of us can agree that 2016 was a train wreck of a year. It was filled with death and loss and fear and worry and pain and sadness. My health continues to hang in the balance, nothing significantly changing. But as we creep out of the darkness of the 2016 shadow, I have the tingling sensation of hope.
Hope is a scary concept. Each twist and turn that brings me to a new specialist or new test can tease me with a little hope, then smash me like a car crash with the reality. You see, the test results don't definitively show that brain surgery is the very best treatment. And they want to be 120% sure that is the only way to go. Makes sense. Brain surgery scares the shit out of me. Living the rest of my life like this however, is far scarier.
So what next? Well, you know that saying "trial and error"? Seems we will take that approach. We will do a trial run of a medication that is actually used to treat something completely different than what I have, but a SIDE EFFECT of said drug, is suppression of cortisol production (and that seems to be the asshole in my body making such a mess). If it works, and my symptoms are alleviated, then it will be the definitive proof that surgery needs to happen. If I don't get better or have an adverse reaction to the medication...we are back at square one. I am terrified to let myself give way to hope.
The increasing symptoms and my intense discomfort had me screaming YES to try this drug, even though it is really hard on the liver...and the thing I love most, wine, is hard on the liver...meaning no alcohol for the entire 12 weeks. Zero, zip, ziltch. For 12 weeks. I shall be blogging about this experience as I imagine I will have a great deal of complaining to do.
I'll be starting the meds after Christmas, allowing myself the enjoyment of a couple exceptional bottles of wine with family as we celebrate the end of this God forsaken year.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
Hope is a scary concept. Each twist and turn that brings me to a new specialist or new test can tease me with a little hope, then smash me like a car crash with the reality. You see, the test results don't definitively show that brain surgery is the very best treatment. And they want to be 120% sure that is the only way to go. Makes sense. Brain surgery scares the shit out of me. Living the rest of my life like this however, is far scarier.
So what next? Well, you know that saying "trial and error"? Seems we will take that approach. We will do a trial run of a medication that is actually used to treat something completely different than what I have, but a SIDE EFFECT of said drug, is suppression of cortisol production (and that seems to be the asshole in my body making such a mess). If it works, and my symptoms are alleviated, then it will be the definitive proof that surgery needs to happen. If I don't get better or have an adverse reaction to the medication...we are back at square one. I am terrified to let myself give way to hope.
The increasing symptoms and my intense discomfort had me screaming YES to try this drug, even though it is really hard on the liver...and the thing I love most, wine, is hard on the liver...meaning no alcohol for the entire 12 weeks. Zero, zip, ziltch. For 12 weeks. I shall be blogging about this experience as I imagine I will have a great deal of complaining to do.
I'll be starting the meds after Christmas, allowing myself the enjoyment of a couple exceptional bottles of wine with family as we celebrate the end of this God forsaken year.
-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com
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