Grit in a can...

The week of April 27, 2026, contained significant personal anniversaries: 

My 67th birthday.

My 15-year anniversary since the onset of polyradiculitis (Poly Rad). 

My 4-year anniversary since the deadly blood clots that forced me to give up my epidurals which I had received every 12 weeks for over 8 years. 

Now it is May, which marks the 13th anniversary of receiving the correct diagnosis of Poly Rad after consults with eight different doctors over a two-year period.

This upcoming June marks the 10th anniversary of discovering an underlying cause of my Poly Rad. 

And August will mark the 10th year since my revision hip replacement surgery--the explant of my defective, cobalt-leaching hip and the implant of a non-defective one. 

What have a I learned in all these years? 

Too much to list. 

But to sum it up in six words:

Loss. Grief.

Accept. Adapt.

Gratitude. Grit.

Not that I hadn't experienced these states of reality before, but I've grown to know them on a much deeper level. And the learning continues...

What have I lost and grieved due to Poly Rad?

The ability to cook, clean, change linens, cut my finger-and-toe nails, care for a pet, regularly shop or socialize, work in the yard, decorate my home, hold employment, care for my newborn and toddler grandchildren, regularly give gifts and send cards, backpack, long-distance hike, and the list goes on. I rarely get visitors. I do have a few friends who still check in via phone or text.

One could say I've lost my identity. But deep in my heart, I don't believe that. My identity remains alive in a seed, or perhaps a seed pod. No matter my limitations, I am still Carol with all the changes that life brings...

That said, it was (and sometimes still is) hard to accept that I can no longer do much of what I once did.

Back in 2015, a friend requested information on what I do nutritionally to help with the weakness and pain in my arms. My answer included a powdered food supplement that I buy at distributor cost. I didn't have the energy and wherewithal to help my friend try the product, but I couldn't bring myself to say, "I can't." Instead, I said, "I'm not willing," which sounded harsh. But I just couldn't say the word "can't." The saying, "Can't never could," echoed in my brain. 

I struggled with this continually--the fact that I "can't." When I talked it over with Hubby, he helped me see and accept that I'm simply not able to do certain things without compromising my already compromised state of being

And he was right.

Eventually I was able to accept the "can't" word, though it can still cause me to wobble and feel that I need to explain, which feels overwhelming. Can the "can'ts" someday change? I'd gladly accept any changes to "can." And I have received a few "cans" in the last couple years. 

Grief continues, and still sometimes I drown in it. I wail and cry and shut down. Then when I replay scenarios in my head, fantasizing about explaining to someone what I go through on a daily basis, I realize how very overwhelming it all is. I don't expect anyone to listen to all that nor fully grasp the depth of the suffering and the endurance required to navigate. And I am well aware that others struggle with similar disabilities, isolation, loneliness, grief, and processing through it all to get up and breathe through another day. 

And that is where accept and adapt come in...

Then, gratitude and grit...

Gratitude for breath, for a husband who (even though he's gone often due to his employment) chops my celery and apples and peppers for my salad, does the laundry, grocery shops, and knobbles my back. He used to regularly help me bathe and dress, but I'm now able to those things without supervision. (A "can!") And I'm thankful for my family and the few close friends I'm still in touch with. I'm thankful I can still drive, and (drum roll) that I can again ride my bicycle. (More "cans!")

The grit comes with living and navigating through all the above...

Like with cycling. It's hard work. The hardest part is the prep and the after-ride tasks. The actual cycling itself usually brings me a feeling of freedom--freedom from the concentrated effort required for other motor movement and details in a sea of minutiae. 

I never have a day off; my self-care duties are not negotiable if I want to continue to be able to partially function and even gain some "cans," however small they may seem. 

One of my favorite movies as a youth was the 1969 film True Grit. I was 10, and horses were my life. When I first saw the movie, my companion was a black Welsh pony whom I named Black Eagle. Mattie's horse was Little Blackie; I felt a kinship. 

True Grit(1969) Part 1, Part 7, and Part 9

Images...

In March 2025, two Trump supporters and a Trump voter and I sat at the dinner table. One of the supporters said something derogatory about Biden. 

I thought, Do I say anything? 

And then I responded with something like, "What about Trump? He's worse..." 

The dialog went downhill from there. I was angered at (among other things) how anyone could support the tactics of ICE and Trump's constant dehumanizing rhetoric--such as labeling all or most undocumented/illegal immigrants as rapists, murderers, scum, and whatever other derogatory labels Trump regularly throws out from his keyboard or tongue.  

Another thing I stated was that I wouldn't be surprised if Trump leads us into a Depression and/or WWIII.  

[Please note that "I wouldn't be surprised" does not equal "I believe."]

I also shared that the bottom-line reason I voted for Harris, instead of either not voting or voting for a third-party candidate whom I figured would lose, was because I'd rather navigate the censorship of the Left than what I saw coming as the censorship of MAGA. 

[I later realized that the word "censorship" may be better stated as "government overreach."] 

One of the supporters was quite surprised at my bottom-line reason and said, "That's a new one. I haven't heard that before." 

That supporter and I later discussed our previous heated back-and-forth. Yes, we disagree on Trump and now stick mainly to subjects we have in common, though our opinions on the common sometimes also differ.  

Almost a year later on February 5, 2026, I wrote in my journal:

Carol, what do you mean by or can you describe what you saw coming from MAGA?

MAGA is fundamentalist. Fundamentalism provides easy answers. Example: 'We don't like you, so we'll get rid of you.' And MAGA uses the Bible, the major religious book of authority in US history, to back its fundamentalism. 

Versus the Left; example: 'We don't like you, but we will tolerate you, to a point.'

The Left uses so-called science to determine when their tolerance reaches a stopping point. But how and where do they get that "science?" Hmm, follow the money. I'm thinking of pharmaceutical companies. 

Today is April 19, 2026, and we are at war with Iran, and prices for goods and gasoline are up. 

Will we end up in a Depression or WWIII? 

I hope not.

(Personally, due to the current war causing a shortage of a specific poly-foam, Hubby and I are having to delay much needed foundation work on our home. But at least we have a brick-and-mortar, physical home. *gratitude*)

As I've read and watched MAGA pundits, Old Testament Bible verses are often used to justify the Iran war. The only New Testament verses I've read or heard from them come from the Book of Revelation. I've also seen folks use the account of Jesus throwing the money changers out of the temple.

Justifying by using the Old Testament and Book of Revelation makes complete sense; both are ripe with stories of war and annihilation of the unbeliever. 

But what of the gospels? What of the Pauline epistles? 

Both seem to be absent from these pundits.

I recently reread the Book of Romans and wondered if these claiming-to-be-Christian pundits had ever read it.

Personally, I believe The Way International's interpretation of scripture is more accurate than most other interpretations.

"Omg, Carol! How can you say that!?!"

I chuckle at that response. 

My answer is layered and complex. 

And it includes my time as an agnostic; a Methodist; a Baptist; a Charismatic; a Way believer; a serious student of Biblical word studies; a quasi-Christian Universalist; a reader about and of various religions, beliefs, and myths... 

One thing The Way taught that I believe is more accurate than tradition is that Jesus died on a Wednesday and was raised on a Saturday--thus fulfilling 3 days and 3 nights in the grave--and that he was crucified right as the Judeans were sacrificing their Passover lambs; Jesus was the literal Passover. When I shared this with someone the Wednesday before Easter this year, they responded, "That makes much more sense!'

I also want to note that Wierwille did plagiarize. 

And much of Way interpretation comes from other sources; E.W. Bullinger comes to mind.

~*~

As I lay in bed this past week before drifting off, I was thinking about Hegseth's Pulp Fiction prayer and about MAGA pundits using OT scripture as a justification for war. 

And I thought of the Jesus I learned of through the decades... 

The Jesus I loved as a brother...

The Jesus who was not God but fully human and understood human doubts and hardships and longings...

The Jesus who stood up for the poor and marginalized...

The Jesus who was falsely accused and executed and prayed while hanging on the stake, "Father forgive them, for they know not what they do."

Then some visuals came to mind...

An image of Jesus being repulsed by the current political administration and the people as whited sepulchers. 

Then an image of Jesus feeling his repulse, recognizing it as a normal human reaction, and recognizing that misuse of scripture is what power-hungry humans do. It is to be expected; it's no surprise. 

The next image was of Jesus, peaceful and calm, steadily going about his calling of John 3:16.

~*~

So does the above mean I've reconverted back to being a Bible believer? 

No.

I'm still a CU-leaning agnostic, sprinkled with mysticism. 

These days I feel a deep resonance with the principles of Daoism. 

~*~

Into the Mystic by Van Morrison

A different kind of "Trail Guide"...

My symptoms began in April 2011 in all my limbs and extremities. 

In May 2013, two years and eight doctors later, I received a correct diagnosis--polyradiculitis, multiple nerve roots swollen at my spinal cord in my lumbar and cervical regions.

In January 2014 I began receiving steroid lumbar epidurals every 12 weeks. 

In 2015 I designed my first "Rally Sheet."

Every 12 weeks with magnets I'd attach to my refrigerator my one-page printed Rally Sheet for that round.

These helped encourage me until my next epidural.

In 2018 I changed the title from "Rally Sheet" to "Trail Guide."

But the trail wasn't a literal trail through the woods; it was (and still is) a literal place of being, of navigating life with a rare disease and all its repercussions. 

Along with my refrigerator-attached encouragements, I kept detailed notes in small notebooks, tracking symptoms and responses to interventions.  

The last Trail Guide I attached to my refrigerator read: 

Trail Guide April 14, 2022, thru July 4, 2022:  Round #38

My self-care is a fulltime job.

That is my reality.

My self-care is service to my family & society.

To my human & animal friends.

To Nature & Earth. 

As I care for my self, I care for others.

This is my potential with Earth, my gift for a more beautiful world.

Monitor my energy and push capacity.

Turtle power. Ground. Listen. 

Happy pace, hour to hour.

Move my physical being.

Consciously eat & intermittently fast.

Rest. Be with nature. Be with me. Be.

Notice flash feelings. Observe. No need to react or respond. 

Self-validate. Boundaries. Respect. Self-soothe. 

Allow joy. Allow grief. Allow gratitude. Allow loss.

Embrace it all... 

Live well...

I do not have to prove any thing to any one.

"At some point, everything's gonna go south on you & you're going to say, 'This is it. This is how I end.' Now you can either accept that, or you can get to work. That's all it is. You just begin...." ~Mark Watney, space pirate

Countdown: 

Week 1: Begins M, 4/11/22 (Thur, 4/14: Epidural #38. Day adjusted for FL trip.)

Week 2: Begins M, 4/18/22 

Week 3: Begins M, 4/25/22 

Week 4: Begins M, 5/02/22 (Florida: 4/29 thru 5/07)

Week 5: Begins M, 5/09/22 (Black Mtn: 5/11 thru 5/13)

Week 6: Begins M, 5/16/22 

Week 7: Begins M, 5/23/22 (5/23, MON: TAKE BONIVA!  5/24, Tu: Cervical Trigger Pnt Injs, WS )

Week 8: Begins M, 6/06/22 

 

Week 9: Begins M, 6/13/22 

Week 10: Begins M, 6/20/22 

Week 12: Begins M, 7/04/22 (7/03 or 7/04: TAKE BONIVA!)

Week 12: Completed M, 7/11/22: Epidural #39. 

Signed:  carol welch, ceo  ~ cyclist. explorer. overcomer. ~

I had no idea on April 11, 2022, that it would be my last Trail Guide. 

I never received Epidural #39. 

On April 28, 2022, two weeks after Epidural #38, I landed in the hospital for 3 nights with two good-sized blood clots, one in each lung. 

The ER doctor informed me, "It's good you came in. These are the deadly kind."

Because I was put on blood thinners, I had to give up my epidurals. 

I was terrified. 

Without the epidurals, how would my body and brain be able to stay at least partly functional?

Would I become bedridden? 

Then, the same week as my blood clots, my functional medicine doctor began offering low-level laser therapy, now known as photobiomodulation; and I was his first laser patient.

In June 2023, I purchased a laser for home use. 

For over six months I lasered daily. 

Some days I'd laser my whole body; some days I would rotate upper and lower body--brain, jaws, upper arms, lower arms, wrists, thumb joints, hands and fingers, adrenals, lumbar and cervical nerve roots, upper back, lower back, thighs, knees, lower legs, ankles, feet and toes. 

Each day, the process took about 2 to 2-1/2 hours. 

Now, in March 2026, I still laser daily, but not all those parts because I have received improvements, incremental but significant.

One of those very significant improvements? My jaws.

It was in January 2016 that symptoms spread to my jaws. 

Since January 2026, my jaws have been pain-free!

*knock-on-wood* 

In June 2016 we did discover an underlying cause: My 2008 artificial hip implant had been slowly drip-dripping, leaching cobalt and chromium. It was explanted and replaced in August 2016. But still, I needed the epidurals. Then came the blood clots, and I had to give up the epidurals.  

I no longer design Trail Guides every 12 weeks.

In 2023 I began a different kind of tracking with a graph paper notebook.

Every Sunday, using a ruler I draw columns and rows for the week ahead...

~*~

"At some point, everything's gonna go south on you and you're going to say, this is it.

This is how I end.

Now you can either accept that, or you can get to work.

That's all it is.

You just, begin.

You do the math.

You solve one problem and you solve the next one, and then the next.

And if you solve enough problems, you get to come home."

~Mark Watney, Space Pirate