“How did I get HERE?”

Seriously.  How did I get here?  I am sitting in the waiting area of a “Mercedes-Benz Campus”.  I feel very uncomfortable and yet so pleased at the same time.  But mostly horrified and not surprised by the voice in my head that says “You don’t really belong here.”  

But I LIKE it here. 

 Everyone should be able to come to a nice place to get their “home on the road,” or car, looked at.   We are all intrinsically worthy of this kind of treatment: complimentary snacks & drinks, a clean & bright atmosphere and courteous & capable employees.  My husband (My financial contribution to our situation is marginal.  My emotional and partner-empowering support, epic.) worked just as hard his entire life as he has in the last 7 years that our financial situation has gotten better. That means we can usually, at some point, afford the debt, be it medical or auto/house maintenance, that we get into. And we have no consumer debt because it has scared the pants off us in the past and we just really have made ourselves live within our means. And we can do some nice things with his employment perks. But let’s be real.  Despite the fact that my brakes have squeaked on and off for the last 4 months, I only came in today because I got a recall notice.  That means they will update something vaguely important for FREE.  I’m still a frugal chic with an eye for quality. We’ll see how frugally I get out of here.

 

See we bought this car used about 5 months ago.  It’s 9 years old and has reached 100K.  But to me it’s nice.  Really nice. And thanks to my husband’s Scout leader of ages past, we got a really nice deal on it too (we also traded in a car that we gratefully owed nothing on). So instead of the totally fine other cars that I drove that would have been really good deals too, we picked this Mercedes-Benz.  Because I dared to get in it. And our family will fit comfortably in it.  And the price was good and it was his parents’ car and they took really good care of it and you get the picture.  I needed several reasons to allow myself this luxury. But mostly my husband would not see anything else after it caught his eye.  So we took on a car payment  when we were really hoping not to. And here I am in the lap of a luxury waiting area for MY car. And I’m wondering how I - how we - got here.  

I think it’s pretty much a matter of work ethic and talents meets lots of personal life and family trials, meets economic setbacks, meets lots of humility, meets learning curves,  meets the divine scales of balance between justice & mercy, meets repentance and once in a while (lots if you’re lucky 😉), in this life, a tender mercy wins.  

That’s it.  Life is like a box of chocolates.  You never know what you’re gonna get so be grateful when you get some good stuff - some caramel filling.  

Adventures In Indexing: Pacifists & Studebakers & "Mormons" Oh my!

My Dad

 NOTE: All names of persons in indexed records will remain anonymous in these posts.

 Going through and indexing old vital and government records doesn't sound all that enticing to you? They are often hard to read and repetitive. Sometimes you get stuck and wonder if it's worth your time. Maybe it should be left in the hands of a professional archivist, librarian or historian? Maybe you think it would be really nice to have some formal training on this. What good does tramping around in the past do? Maybe the past should stay in the past? To that I can say, from experience, that people- dead or alive, past or present- like to be heard. And sometimes it's the trace records of their lives that do the first talking. They say "I was here. And I hope that my life mattered." It reminds me of one of my favorite shows I like to watch when folding laundry, The Story Trek. Does randomly picking towns and knocking on doors and asking strangers to tell their "stories" and getting a variety of strange looks and closed doors make for riveting tv? When somebody opens their mouth it does, as Todd Hansen from BYUtv's THE STORY TREK and fans know. Something about opening up your ears, eyes and hearts to the universe and saying "Here I am. What do you have for me?!" and cool things come forth. That happens to me all the time when I engage in the simple tasks that God has asked me to do.

 Sunday I was challenged by Tim to do a batch of WW1 draft records in FamilySearch's volunteer indexing program. I've been indexing for about 6 years now (by the way, the way that time flies really makes me feel like a time traveler. And old.) (USA)WW1 draft records are great to do for beginners because there are about 5 records in a batch and you can get used to how different clerks write the alphabet, whether in cursive or print. They come in all different states and counties, often show birthdate and place, current residence, marital status, whether they had kids and often the name of their nearest relative. They often list basic physical characteristics and whether they desire to claim exemption. Honing in on this last question for this one batch took me on a cool journey that actually intersected with my life. In elementary school they call this a "text to self" or even a "text to world" connection. I love when stuff I learned while reading with my kids feels relevant in the grown-up world! It's like everything I ever really needed to know I learned in kindergarten...or while my kids were in kindergarten. Motherhood has been good for me.

 Three records in a row, all with the same surname, listed being members of The Church of The Brethren as a reason for exemption from military service. This sounded like a cult or commune of some sort that I'd not heard of. What was it? I knew that Quakers and Mennonites were a few groups that because of their particular view of Christianity did not wish to use or support violence. What I found when I Googled that church was that it had roots in early 18th century Schwarzenau Germany and was an offshoot of the Protestantism of the time. Due to growing hardships and persecution, many emigrated to the American colonies and formed their first congregation in Germantown, PA in 1723. From that time, if there were wars and conflicts, the Brethren held pacifist leanings and resisted fighting and thus I saw these WW1 draft registrants claiming exemption for religious reasons.

 Looking a little more, I noticed that The Church of The Brethren (earlier known as German Baptists & called “Dunkers”) currently have a historical library and while perusing through some of their online articles I found the Studebaker logo!  My dad, who passed away almost exactly a year from now (see his pic above), loved cars and restoring them. His favorite ones were made by Studebaker (my personal favorite model was his gold Avanti.) The company was started by 2 brothers when their family had moved to South Bend, Indiana in the 1800s. These brothers were part of a large family who had been raised in The Church of the Brethren in Germantown, PA.  I also have family ties in that town. Brethren aim to follow the example of Jesus Christ as shown in the New Testament and interpret that in action by their baptism by immersion, daily service to others and non-violent submission. The Studebaker brothers made their living after the manner of their forefathers – in blacksmithing and wagon building before building automobiles. In 1857 they contracted with the U.S. government to supply them with wagons for their latest venture, The “Mormon Rebellion”, which required a long trip out west to the Utah Territory. This venture did not sit well with one brother, Henry, and his pacifist feelings. Opportunistically another brother, John, who had just returned from earning a fortune supplying wheelbarrows to California gold miners, decided to buy Henry out and invest $8,000 in the company. Henry and his father would live out the rest of their days in their faith. The other brothers did not.

Today some members of The Church of The Brethren do choose to serve in the military.  I wondered if my dad knew of this interesting connection to his favorite car company? I think he would have found it entertaining as he had joined the Mormon (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) faith as a young husband and father. I also live in a city that shares the same valley that United States Army camped (Camp Floyd) in during the “Utah War”. I never knew much about that until we moved here 19 years ago. Thus are the text-to-self and text-to-world gems  (maybe I should call them "index-to-self or "index-to-world" connections) that can be found when digging a little deeper and shining a light on history…through indexing.

Medicated: “Seeing through a glass darkly”

Photo by Christie Thomas from FreeImages

I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts lately,  searching out the stories of marginalized people who are overcoming life’s challenges and society’s prejudices. I am intensely curious about the individual human experience and have been since I decided to read every single book in the American Heroes biography series at Smoketree Elementary’s school library. There was a pretty broad spectrum of early American historical figures from Dolley Madison and Harriet Tubman to Paul Revere and George Washington Carver.  I was pleasantly surprised to learn about so many women from this collection.  Even as a young girl I felt a lack of historical representation and pretty much ate up the stories of these women who gained notoriety either on their own merits or through the position of their husbands.  I was touched by Mary Todd Lincoln’s struggles with grief and depression as she outlived her husband and three of her four children.  I admired Florence Nightingale’s compassion and her vision and drive to improve the care of wounded soldiers.

So what does this introduction have to do with being medicated, as the title of this entry suggests?  I went through a mini identity crisis last week.  I was pondering, perhaps for the thousandth time, who am I?  What do I really feel?  What are MY needs?  And, does anyone else really care? How much does my SSRI medication blunt me from the reality around me from day to day?  Would I be able to represent myself better if my brain wasn’t constantly infused with recycled neurotransmitters bathing my synapses?  Have I lost touch with my true feelings and passions and drives as this brain state has been my normal setting for over 19 years straight (with only a few switches in dose, formula and regimen)?  To reference Paul’s first  letter to the Corinthians,

12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

How dark is my glass?  Does this medication make it darker?  Can my Creator see through whatever mists this medication creates and see the true desires of my heart even if I am not feeling “clear”?  How shall I “know even as also I am known?”  

I understand that this scripture is distinguishing between what I can know NOW and what will be made clear at a future time.

10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.

I realize through seeing the context of these verses that the answer regarding clarity is CHARITY- the pure love of Christ- the ultimate lens of true worth, experience and value.  The whole chapter is a treatise on charity and its ability to conquer all doubt and discouragement- in ourselves, in others and in doctrine- and to have faith in Christ’s mission, love and atonement.  

So I talked myself off the ledge with the Spirit’s help.  I am grateful for my treatment plan even if now it is only “part” and not “perfect”.  It enables me to hold on and continue to learn new things; to witness the lives of my children and to continue in patience in loving them and my husband as I love myself.  I may never contribute in a grand way worthy of an entire chapter book.  But I can, in a small and simple way, testify of what faith in the Lord Jesus Christ can do for an individual and a family.

"Such a Man!"

Fighting Back Harder: A PMDD Case Study from A Husband's Point of View

Updated: Mar 29

INTRO: A friend of mine sent this very personal narrative to me almost 5 months ago (on my birthday I might add). A few years earlier he had read an older post of mine about my own experience trying to make sense of my PMDD and promptly messaged me "SUSIE WE HAVE TO TALK!". We did. It was the first time I realized that sharing my experience could actually help another feel "NOT ALONE". It was so obvious that this guy loved and adored his wife. He had wooed and married her and had felt he'd gotten the far better end of the deal. He was ecstatic to be getting closer to the true character of his wife's mood disorder and saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Thankfully he is very expressive, and could barely contain himself to ask me if I could publish this for him, with the agreement that he remain anonymous to protect his wife's privacy. THIS IS NOT EVERY WOMAN OR PARTNER's EXPERIENCE WITH PMDD OR WITH GETTING A PROPER DIAGNOSIS & TREATMENT PLAN. I hesitated to go forward because light is still being shed on this disorder and every case is different in what can agitate it to the point of dysfunction and dispruption in one's life. There is definitely something going on with the woman's personal sensitivity to even NORMAL hormonal changes let alone when you add synthetic birth control or any hormone supplement or replacement. It could be the metaphorical difference between blowing gently on a flame and throwing kerosine on it. In any case, it is extremely rare to get the partner's point of view and experience. Most partners of women desperately trying to hold onto some semblance of normal, are being tossed in a sea of confusion alongside their partner. I admire how this friend "went to bat" for his wife, demanding that she and he be heard. To that I say: "What a man." Here are his words.

"Let me begin with the conclusion. PMDD(pre-menstrual dysphoric disorder) is a significantly underdiagnosed, misdiagnosed, and misunderstood medical condition that impacts far more women in the world than reported and it can be SEVERE. Here is the story.

My wife suffered from painful and long periods. They were just awful. On top of it she would have bouts of depression. As our marriage continued her depression only increased. Her gynecologist put her on birth control pills and told her to see a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist told her she had major depression and gave her lots of pills. Her depression went from mild to severe. During the severe cases she was hospitalized. She never tried to kill herself but she absolutely couldn’t handle her state of being and sometimes she would hurt herself just to feel something- ANYTHING. Some mental health programs were outpatient and some were inpatient. I absolutely did not accept the diagnosis of major depression. I explained that this is not who my wife is. I was looked upon as someone who simply didn’t want his wife this way; like I was trying to change her into something she is not. I explained that I know who she is and this is not her- something is causing it. Multiple doctors explained that the issue was psychological. None of the doctors could point to a reason or cause. Their diagnosis was based on symptoms. I was determined to find the cause. It was a broad search at first.

Her depression started to come on in her teenage years and it just grew from there. By the time we were married it started to get bad. A year or so into our marriage it increased to severe: inability to go out, to see people, to even shower. (This went on for years- and I refer to this part of our lives as "the dark ages"). I remember bringing her to the store one night and she had a breakdown in the ice cream isle because she couldn’t figure out which ice cream to get. That started off a very bad episode of “depression”. Depression is like a dark storm where you can’t see anything clearly and you are pelted with winds of self-hate, your future seems bleak and hopeless, and your past takes on the beauty of a mud puddle. I realized this was getting severe. She had many many many therapists; therapist in person, therapists over the phone, so many ways we tried to work with her but there was something inside of her fighting back harder.

Her periods were rough from the start but they also grew in severity. When her period started surpassing 30 days more than once a year I realized this was getting really bad. By the time she had her 3rd D&C I realized this was a severe problem.

The third time she was in the mental health hospital I was on my way to visit her and she called me and told me to pick up tampons. I didn’t even have to ask what flavor- purple, max, overnight with wings. I also got a small bag of gummy worms and started taking some of the tampons out of the box and filling them up with gummy worms- since she loves gummy worms and can’t have candy in the hospital- they literally check everything- so I thought it was fun to sneak contraband in there. As I am stuffing the gummy worms in the tampon box I realize I have been to this pharmacy 3 times now. Each time she was hospitalized I had to go buy her tampons. This is a pattern.

I started my research with 2 truths: 1. her depression is not who she is, it is caused by something. And 2: her lady plumbing is messed up. I spent years researching this. Many nights were spent with Doctor Google. I found a website that let me buy time to communicate with a doctor overseas. We chatted back and forth for a while one night, discussing hormones. Finally, after my wife had had her second dilation and curettage (D&C) and started bleeding again her doctor suggested a drug called Lupron. Lupron is administered through an injection and it puts a woman’s body into menopause for 6 months. You stop ovulating- no periods for 6 months. It is usually administered back-to-back with a compliment dose giving you a total of 12 months of no periods. Sounds like paradise, right? …lets see…

So she got the shot of Lupron. Within a few days she went nuts. As the days went on she went CRAZY. Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe her as the days continued. See if you can figure out what I am saying if I give you the words Batman, poop, and crazy (editor's note: I still haven't figured this out. Someone please enlighten me!) That’s the kind of crazy I am talking about and just a few weeks after the dose she had to be admitted to the mental health facility again. And she had art therapy and group discussion and psychology appointments and psychiatry appointments and she was getting “better” and then BETTER and then BETTER! And this time the facility really helped her! And she was doing GREAT! And she came home feeling great! And she just needed to get in touch with her feelings. And she was far more capable now. She was happier and brighter and more down-to-earth. And she got her second shot of Lupron and she was still fine and then a few months later she started to bleed. And it wasn’t just a little blood. It was a monsoon of blood that didn’t let up for over a month. Her body declared war on her for going so long without bleeding. Those friggin' ovaries, those “mean girls,” decided they were going to teach my wife a lesson once and for all. I really hate those bitches, I really do! And so this opened up a tidal wave of blood and pain that just wouldn’t end.

About this time my research came up with a very RARE diagnosis called PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder). As I researched PMDD I came to a blog written by a very brave woman who explained her bouts with depression and her decision to have her ovaries removed to help her mental condition (https://msjekyllhyde.wordpress.com) And it worked. This was intriguing. And so now I had evidence of a patient who got rid of their ovaries and it greatly reduced their depression. This is something counter to what doctors had explained! My wife fit ALL of the symptoms for PMDD. And so I started running with the theory that my wife had PMDD. I started doing more research.

The research into estrogen was the big eye-opener. Estrogen is talked about a lot but understands a little. The FDA would never allow a doctor to prescribe the amount or estrogen a woman can get in a day. It's also so hard to measure hormone levels because they change so much over the course of a day. But estrogen is an interesting little hormone. You see it DIRECTLY impacts the serotonin in your head. Now serotonin is something I had read a lot about. Many of my wife’s pills for her depression were aimed at impacting her serotonin levels. When people take drugs and self medicate they are usually trying to alter the serotonin levels in their head. This is what changes how we feel. Let that sink in. And so I discover that serotonin is directly impacted by estrogen. So now lets run with the theory that my wife does not get a steady flow of estrogen. A more traditional cycle sends estrogen into the serotonin river like a hose pouring water. My wife’s estrogen is released like a firehose and then trickle and then a firehose and a trickle or anything but a consistent flow. This makes her feel awful. And then came the Lupron. It made her crazy…and then she was fine.

I discussed this with her gynecologist- he is a wonderful man who was fellowship trained but he had no idea what PMDD was. He dismissed it and suggested she try more birth control pills- "let's go ahead and double it- I dare your uterus to bleed through that!" (by the way- don’t taunt your uterus…ever) Birth control pills are frequently prescribed when not needed or prescribed for convenience and frequently they are OVERPRESCRIBED because they are very misunderstood. I finally begged my wife to see a professional who specialized in PMDD and she reluctantly agreed. I called UCLA in an attempt to get someone top-notch in the field. I screened them all to find a gynecologist who had a lot of experience with PMDD and bonus- the doctor was a woman! So we met with her and she was so kind and sympathetic and she prescribed my wife 3 birth control pills a day and insisted that would teach your cycle who is boss! And about 2 months later my wife's bleeding was so bad and her pain was so severe we returned to see that doctor and the doctor said my wife should not be bleeding. I volunteered that my wife had a hormone problem and it needs to be fixed. I stated the estrogen was making her bleed. The doctor lost it and she yelled out something like this- “Such a man! SUCH A MAN TO SAY IT'S ALL HORMONES! SHE ISN’T GETTING ESTROGEN SO IT'S NOT CAUSING HER TO BLEED!” I calmly explained that it was all hormones and that the only way a woman can bleed is through hormones and the mere fact that she was bleeding was proof that she was getting estrogen and that her body's ovaries are just on overdrive and they are spitting out hormones that are messing with her lady parts and her brain. I was now more convinced than ever that the ovaries were the main culprit for my wife’s gynecological issues and her mental issues. I begged my wife to get her ovaries removed. She would not. I respected her decision since they are her ovaries and I would not take kindly to someone telling me to lose my balls.

A few years went by and she started to have a lot of abdominal pain. Turns out she had a cyst on one of her ovaries. The pathology was a bit fuzzy and he recommended a hysterectomy. So she did it. A few days later, as she was recovering, she started to spiral out of control. It was horrible. Secretly I was so excited and happy about it! You see what was happening here? It was the same thing that happened with the Lupron. The Lupron shut her ovaries down- the hysterectomy takes her ovaries out! She was having the same reaction to the hysterectomy as she did to the Lupron. And then a few weeks later it was like the dark clouds of depression cleared and revealed a beautiful blue sky! My wife is completely different now. She is able. She drives places. She wrangles our kid LIKE A BOSS. She runs to Costco like a champ! She owns Target! She does the school drop off, pick up, handles appointments, and bathes daily! She still deals with depression but not a tenth of what she used to deal with. I have my wife back! And as for her ovaries….wherever her ovaries are, I hope they are rotting in hell.

The point of me writing this is to let you know that many women have this problem. There is a reason why so many more women deal with major depression than men. It’s because of the estrogen. Women who have painful periods and bleed heavily and have severe depression please take note. It’s not your fault. Your ovaries hate you. The way you test and see if you have PMDD is you ask for Lupron from your gynecologist. They will likely give it to you to see if it helps you stop bleeding. If you go crazy for the first month and then feel a LOT BETTER for 5 months then chances are your ovaries and you are not on good terms and it's either you or them in a cage match of death. Many women have committed suicide because of PMDD. It is a killer. Their ovaries drove them to do it. Their ovaries were pumping such massive and inconsistent quantities of estrogen into their serotonin stream that there was no recovery from the free-fall. There was no anti-depressant strong enough to counterbalance it.

Anyway, that’s my story. My wife has gotten so much better I now stick out as the crazy depressed one in our family and she helps me. A lot. I love her to pieces. I’ve always loved her, just not all of her. In truth, I never loved her ovaries. I’m glad she won that cage match. I wish the doctor could have given me her ovaries so I could throw them off the roof of the hospital, run over them with my car, stomp my foot on them, feed them to a colony of dung-beetles, and then burn everything with a blowtorch. That would have felt goooooood."