8 Things I Say Instead of "It's Going To Be Alright" as a Parent to a Medically Complex Child

"Don't worry, it's going to be alright".

It's an innocent enough thing that we say that is meant to offer support and encouragement. When I was small and played with dolls, and my dolls had a boo-boo, this was something I said to them. My mother said it to me all the time when a problem came up. And when I became a mom, on the countless nights I spent awake with a sick baby, I would be whispering "It's ok" as I soothed him back to sleep.

I thought my job as a parent was to make things better. I'm supposed to be able to take any problem my child has and be able to work together to find the answer. I'm the boo-boo fixer, whether that boo-boo is physical or emotional. I'm the one who is supposed to be able to assure my child that everything is ok, that things aren't as bad as they seem, that any problem can be overcome with a bit of work. I'm supposed to be the super-mom, cape and all, that with a single wave of my magic wand, make everything good again.

This was my vision of motherhood, as I'm sure a lot of other soon-to-be-moms see themselves being like this too. For awhile, my life as a mother was a lot like this. Colds, ear infections, sore throats would come and go, and everything would be alright again. Growing pains would come and go, and then another period of "alrightness". I could easily soothe my growing boy, telling him "it's going to be alright".

But what about when you can no longer promise this? What happens when you can't honestly say that things are going to get better?

My days of motherhood are now spent playing a lot of other roles, but my primary one is still "boo-boo fixer". 9 years ago, Jacob was diagnosed with epilepsy. Then 4 years ago, he was diagnosed with severe Crohn's Disease. Since then, he's been diagnosed with anxiety, ADHD, severe psoriasis, Long QT Syndrome, eye inflammation, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome/Joint Hypermobility Syndrome... He's in near constant pain, suffers multiple infections due to his immuno-suppression, and lives with daily vomiting and nausea. My vision of my role of motherhood, of being the one to help make it all right, has been completely changed.

I no longer tell my son that everything is going to be alright. That, in itself, is alright. Jacob knows enough about his medical situation to know that several of his problems have no cure, and can be difficult to manage. He was told that after he had his colectomy, things "would go back to normal, you'll be alright". That didn't happen. With each new medication we try that is supposed to "make things better" our hopes go up, only to come crashing down with severe side effects, or failure to help manage the disease it's supposed to treat. It is devastating to be promised improvement and then to experience this type of let-down. So we don't talk about things being alright in the future, instead we focus on the moment. The little things that we can do together to make each day a bit more manageable. Life has to go on, even when there is no magic wand. There's nothing "alright" with what Jacob lives with daily. There's nothing good that comes from watching your child suffer, other than the motivation it creates to keep fighting back.

How I see my job as a parent has completely changed. I no longer think that my job as a parent is to be able to take away his pain or to hide him from a painful reality. Don't get me wrong, I would give anything to be able to make him better, that still hasn't changed. My job though isn't to find a way though to take it all away, my job is to help my son to develop the skills to cope with the challenges that life has brought his way. My job isn't to protect him from all of the world's horrors, but to teach him to understand them so that he isn't afraid and to allow him to find his own way of making them better. My job is to help him appreciate the small things in life, to celebrate the small successes, and to focus on the moment rather than the long-term bigger picture.

I've watched my son grow in so many ways during his many medical crises, he's actually the one who is teaching me what it means to be a parent. Every time he has to have a painful procedure, and there's been many, he teaches me about bravery. Every time he has to try something new, something scary, he teaches me about courage. He's taught me what it means to be strong, to never give up on hope, to keep going no matter the size of mountain in your way. He's taught me about generosity through his fundraising and efforts to make a difference in this world. Most of all, he's taught me about life and love. I don't need to fix Jacob, he's the one who has fixed me. He's the one who's made me the best mom I could be to him, and also a better person. Things might never be the typical definition of "alright" so instead I say:

We can get through this.
You are so strong and brave, you can do it!
Just keep swimming.
Hold on.
This is just one moment, the next might be different.
Keep trying, keep hoping, keep dreaming.
Live for the moment, in the moment.
You are not alone.

Four Years Later

Four years. Four years ago, I received a diagnosis that has changed my life. It's taught me a lot about strength, survival, and fighting on even when met with disappointment after disappointment. It's taught me hope, love, friendship, patience. Four years ago, I was diagnosed with severe Crohn's Disease.

Actually, I should correct that. Initially I was diagnosed with severe Ulcerative Colitis. See, Ulcerative Colitis (UC) and Crohn's Disease, are both forms of Inflammatory Bowel Disease (IBD) but can be very difficult to tell apart. Ulcerative Colitis, effects just the colon (large intestine), whereas Crohn's can be anywhere in the digestive tract. In my case, the inflammation that they saw when they did my colonoscopy was limited to my colon, and since I didn't have any non-intestinal symptoms of Crohn's, or granulomas present, they believed that I had Ulcerative Colitis. Unfortunately, 4 years hasn't changed the fact that it's still very difficult to tell the two diseases apart, and many are still misdiagnosed.

In 4 years, I've had so many treatments and procedures that it's overwhelming. I've been to the OR 15 times. At one point I was taking handfuls of 18-19 pills at a time. I had a colectomy (removal of the colon), donated my colon to research and gained a fancy bag out of the deal for collecting poop. Each medication brought new side effects, some of them tolerable, some of them a nightmare, but treatment after treatment failed to control my Crohn's and I kept getting sicker and sicker. Four years, and it's still often trial & error to find the right combo that works for the patient.

After 4 long years, my Crohn's is finally starting to get under control. That doesn't mean that I'm "better" though. I will live with this for the rest of my life, or until there is a cure. Remission is an awesome thing to achieve, but it can so easily take a turn the opposite way. I'm focusing on the fact that at least my Crohn's is now controlled so that we can look at what else is going on with my health (because the answer to that is A LOT). But that's a whole other post...

The main thing I want to share with others is HOPE. After my colectomy, things were looking so bad inside that at one point, the doctors were thinking I might have to have a major part of my small intestine removed. The doctors were stunned at just how bad it was. After the Remicade dramatically failed, leaving me with bleeding psoriasis all over my entire body, I did worry that we'd never find a treatment that worked. I worried about my future and what it would be like. Would I still be able to achieve my dreams of being a scientist (physics, chemistry) if I couldn't regularly get to school because of this? Would I always have to spend the majority of my time with doctors and nurses? The Stelara injections that the doctor started me on were, and still are, quite new to treating IBD, and not always effective. But taking a chance to see if it helped without major side effects was worth the risk compared to doing nothing. A year later and I'm no longer at risk (at the moment) for losing part of my small intestine! In fact, things look almost normal inside! There is HOPE. Sometimes it's the things that you're least confident in doing that will give you the results that you want. Keep trying. Failure is not failure so long as you get up and try a different approach. Keep moving forward. Change is scary, but if you don't make changes, things likely stay similar to the situation you're in now. Keep your head up, it does take time to find the right combo of treatments but when you do, it's a major accomplishment. You CAN do this.

A HUGE Thank You to the Ladies of Leaside Curling Club

Kindness. Generosity. Philanthropy. Charity. These are words that matter, words that will make our world a better, more gentle place for everyone. The wonderful, amazing Ladies at Leaside Curling Club have all of these characteristics, and then some.

I was honoured to once again be chosen by these ladies to have Jacob's Healing Rooms be the recipient of their annual end-of-the-season charity golf banquet. Jacob's Healing Rooms is my vision to create a more child-friendly place at Sick Kids Hospital for short-stay treatments, such as regular IV medication infusions. This is my dream and how I want to be remembered, as the person who did something positive to change other people's lives. It may be my dream, but it takes a whole village to make my dreams into a reality. I've heard a lot about how the curling community as a whole loves to help out special causes, and I've been so fortunate enough to experience this with not only Leaside Curling Club, but also the Whitby Curling Club and Oshawa Curling Club too! The response from the curling

community has been so overwhelming, but in a good way!











Our event was held on May 31 at the gorgeous Thornhill Golf and Country Club. The first thing that I immediately noticed was that a lot of the ladies and the staff were wearing my Jacob's Healing Rooms t-shirts! It was so touching to have people believe in my cause so much that they were
wearing t-shirts to promote it. I was so thrilled to be able to speak to the ladies about how Jacob's Healing Rooms will help children to heal and life as a child with a chronic disease. I hope that I was able to inspire at least one other person to go and make their own positive change in this world.

Thank you ladies for once again showing me what kindness can do. Together we raised just over $5000, which will go a LONG way towards making my dreams come true. We still have a bit to go, but you all have reminded me that if you can dream it, you can make it happen with a lot of work.




You can read more about my Jacob's Healing Rooms plans by clicking HERE.

It's Time to Get Gutsy!

On Sunday June 5, my team, Awkward Guts, and I will be walking in the 5km Gutsy Walk! The Gutsy Walk is the annual walk held to raise awareness and research money for Crohn's Disease and Ulcerative Colitis. This will be my 3rd year participating.

Why is this walk so important to me? Because I have severe, refractory Crohn's Disease. Sadly, I am part of the fastest growing age group to be diagnosed with Inflammatory Bowel Disease. I was diagnosed 4 years ago this month, when I woke up one day in severe pain and started pouring blood. It took the doctors about 3 weeks to figure out what was going on, as everyone we consulted thought I just had a bad stomach bug. Oh how I wish that was the case here.

Following my diagnosis, I was started on a lot of different medications to try to get this disease under control. The longer a person has active inflammation, the higher the risks of cancer mutants showing up, so controlling the disease is key in this whole battle. Within 3 months of getting my diagnosis, my disease was so bad that it had destroyed my colon, and we were consulted about our surgical options. It was becoming clear to everyone that I would need to have a colectomy and ileostomy created for my poop.

My battle continued after my colectomy and we started throwing more potions and pills at it. Each new treatment left me with side effects that were serious enough to lead to me stopping that
treatment. I'm also not alone when it comes to side effects. For example, 20% of people who take Remicade will develop psoriasis as a result. I was in that group, my body after Remicade was 70% covered in painful, itchy spots. It makes you wonder whether the medication's side effects are just as bad as the symptom it's managing (it's not, but it makes you wonder sometimes). I also started having liver problems, eye inflammation problems, joint pain. There's so much more that goes with Inflammatory Bowel Disease other than just bloody poop.

In Canada, the "three biggies" for pediatric Crohn's Disease are Remicade, Humira, and Imuran. I've taken the Remicade and Humira, but bloodwork has shown that I wouldn't be a good candidate for Imuran. So when my Remicade infusions caused the psoriasis, we had to go for an option that hasn't been used an awful lot - Stelara injections. I've now been on Stelara for a year, and later this month we will learn if it is working to control the inflammation. Unfortunately, I've had some challenges pop up that make me think that it might not be working that well.

Those are my treatment options in Canada, meaning that we're at the end of the road here. The Gutsy walk means HOPE to me. The funding from the day will go to research programs to help find a cure for this disease. And that will go a long way towards preventing other kids from going through similar battles as I have. If you'd like to donate, please click the link below.

Jacob's Gutsy Walk Page

#MyGivingStory - Giving Tuesday Plans to Help Sick Kids.

#MyGivingStory starts with a diagnosis. In July 2012, at the age of 8, I was diagnosed at The Hospital for Sick Children (Sick Kids) with severe Crohn's Disease, a type of Inflammatory Bowel Disease. Over the next 3 years, I would have many ER visits, hospitalizations, medical appointments and have been wheeled into the Operating Rooms 13 times. One of those visits was to lose my colon which I donated to science to help find a cure for this disease so that others wouldn't have to go through these struggles.

Last winter, I was receiving Remicade IV treatments again. Remicade is one of the medications that is often used once a patient has failed to respond to other medications. Patients at Sick Kids will be started on Remicade infusions as an out-patient, and receive their first 3 sets of infusions in the group treatment rooms. Here's what the treatment rooms look like:

As you can see from the pictures, the rooms are very plain, and do little to offer distractions from the medical treatments or a source of entertainment for the kids. There are two televisions suspended from the ceiling but they are out of the control of the kids since the remote is attached to the bottom of them. And there's always a problem on agreeing what to watch since the person sitting next to you might not like what you want to watch. I've spent 8 hour days in rooms like this while getting my IV treatments.

If there's one thing I learned through my journey, it's that distractions help in the healing process. They can take away the anxiety that you feel when getting treatments, the worries about whether it's going to work, distract from the pokes and the pain. Having a positive outlook helps greatly in the healing process. When you are feeling "down", the pain and other symptoms can make you feel even worse. Feeling encouraged, supported and hopeful are extremely important in the healing process since the disease effects us emotionally as well as physically. So I came up with a plan to help make this happen.

I asked my mom if for Christmas I could ask for the ability to transform this place into a child-friendly place of healing and hope and the plan for Jacob's Healing Rooms was created.

For #MyGivingTuesday I'm asking for $1 donations to Jacob's Healing Rooms. Your money is going to help me to install tablets at each treatment chair so that patients will have a source of entertainment, be able to connect with other patients in the hospital and across Canada using UPopulis, check their e-mail and of course, play games. In each room, I'm going to purchase a colorful bubble-tube machine as a source of distraction and brightening up the room. I'm hoping to get a fresh coat of paint in a relaxing color (I find the yellowness of the room hard to look at), and put cloud panels covering the lights.

This past June I had a medical crisis that reminded me that life was short. I have been having some problems with the electrical activity in my heart. This has only renewed my determination to make a difference in this world and in the lives of other sick children. Jacob's Healing Rooms has become my #BeforeIDie wish.

Your $1 could help me make this wish come true. It could bring a smile to a sick child's face, give hope for a brighter future, and inspire others to make a difference in this world. Your $1 could make these rooms amazing child-friendly places of healing. Your $1 could take the stress off of parents who are also worried about their child and struggling to distract them during the long treatment day.

This #GivingTuesday please think of Jacob's Healing Rooms and make a $1 donation to help make my wish to help other sick kids come true. And please share my story with as many others as possible. Together we can make a difference.

Here is the link to my Sick Kids Donation Webpage: Jacob's Healing Rooms Giving Tuesday Donation Link
You can follow my story on Facebook: Jacob's Healing Rooms Facebook Page
And I'm on Twitter: @KidWithCrohns
And on Instagram: @JacobsHealingRooms

Bad to Worse to Horrific: The Graphic GTube Story

This is a post that I wasn't going to write. It's a post about how we all deserve to know exactly what is in the products that we rely on to maintain our health. Sure, pharmaceuticals and supplements have to list their ingredients, but beyond that, it's really hit and miss. I am going to give a very clear warning right now, right here: If you are squeemish, if you have a weak stomach for graphic pictures:

THERE ARE VERY GRAPHIC PICTURES AHEAD

This is a NG Tube
I had it for 9 months.

The "What's Eating Jacob" saga goes back in history quite a bit. It goes back to when I had my first NG tube (nasal-gastric tube for feeding). Even though obviously having a tube shoved up your nose is going to be a weird sensation for anyone, it was more than that for me. I had daily pain in the upper part of my nose and the back of my throat from the NG tube. I would get frequent nosebleeds and always had a constant sore at the corner of my nose where the tube touched flesh. The doctor at the time attributed the nosebleeds to just dryness and irritation from the tube, so said that I should just use some nasal mist to keep things moist in there. I never said anything more about it. 

How it started

Fast forward to November 2015 when the team decided that it would be best if we replaced the NG tube with a semi-permanent GTube (an implant into your stomach). Two days post surgery, I broke out in a widespread rash on my stomach and chest. It was so itchy and spreading so quick that the team thought that I had chicken pox. I ended up in the lock-down infectious disease ward for a few
weeks on IV anti-virals just in case it was chicken pox. I was also taking the anti-histamine medication Atarax for the itch. The team determined that I didn't have chicken pox and I was discharged home with a few weeks worth of Atarax while the rash went away. 

This is actually an improvement.
Picture taken about 2 weeks after insertion

Once the Atarax was over, where-ever the tube touched my skin would actually eat troughs through my skin where I would have to pull the line out of the "groove" which wasn't the nicest of things to do. But we came up with a solution for this, use DuoDerm (it's a special type of dressing that forms like a second skin) under the line and then tape it down. I no longer had problems with the line eating my skin after that, it was just around the opening where the tube touched that was raw and bleeding. The team said that I was likely reacting to one of the materials in the line, I was given Atarax again, and told to wait the 6 weeks from the date of surgery before we could swap it out. 

6 long weeks. 

My Mickey with granulation tissue
problem

At the start of January, almost like a delayed Christmas gift, I had a new type of tube inserted, a low-profile MicKey button that sits pretty much flush against my skin. I was on Atarax at the time it was inserted and thought that things were going better. I mean, it had to go better than the last tube experience, right? 

Not so much. 

Worsening rash & reaction

I took the Atarax for the first few weeks after changing the tubes over, which helped to keep "stuff" from happening. Then I ran out of medication. We were going to see what happened. What did end up happening was another rash and a lot of granulation tissue (tissue the body sends out to heal an area) forming that was bleeding around the entrance to the stomach. I went back on Atarax and things improved for awhile. Until the dam burst. 

For the past few months, this area has been nothing short of torture. As you see in the pictures, I have a huge raw, bleeding and painful area around the tube. I start bleeding just with air exposure, but when I have to put up with the cleanings... yowzers. Things just keep going from worse to worse. 

My medical team believes that I'm having a reaction to the materials in certain medical supplies such as the tubes, some bandaids, Tegaderm film that is used to secure IV lines. My dermatologist sent a referral to an allergist for patch testing to determine what it is I'm reacting to. Then things started to take a weird, interesting and horrific turn.

The allergist called back and said that the dermatologist needed to supply a list of ingredients from the potential list of offending medical supplies before he could see me. It makes sense, in order to test for something you need to first have a list of potentials to test for. You can't just test every substance known to mankind. 

You would think that this list of ingredients would be available, after all these are healthcare products we're talking about. Would it shock you if I told you that that isn't the case? Would you believe me if I told you that medical product ingredients are extremely hard to track down? Even my doctor was met with resistance when she tried to find out what these tubes were made out of. 

My mom decided to try to track down the secret ingredients listings for some of the medical products I use daily. She called the makers of the actual products for my feeding tubes, as well as for a few of the dressings I use. Here's an example of the difficulties we faced: 

My mom called one company and asked for customer service. She explained the situation and asked to find out what exactly it was made of. Customer service replied that they did not know, and that she should call product development. They transferred her to someone else. That person said that she needed to call Customer Service in Canada (because we're Canadian) and they could help us. My mom called Customer Service again, who initially told her that any of the vendors could answer our question better, but then told us to call Product Tech Support. Yes, they have tech support even for medical supplies. The Product Tech Support, who you would think would know their product the best, was unable to find the answer for us. But he said that he would try to track down the information and call us back. When he called back all he said was "I spoke to the PRODUCT ENGINEER who didn't know the exact ingredients and couldn't confirm one way or the other if the product contained silicone" (The dermatologist believes it might be a reaction to silicone because that's the one thing we know for sure each product has in common). So, the product engineer, the one who actually physically makes the product doesn't know the ingredients? Mind-boggling. Perhaps, just perhaps, things might have moved faster if this information was publicly available. I think that anything that is used in healthcare supplies should have to have a product ingredient list available to the public. Anything short of full disclosure can seriously impact lives, I'm living proof of that. 

What it looks like now

Meanwhile, I'm left in a bloody mess and last week managed to contract yet another infection in the open, bleeding, seeping wound. I'm in so much pain that I have tears rolling down my cheeks often. I suffer through hourly cleanings to try to prevent it from worsening and new infections from developing. Something needs to be done!

Next week I'll be going in for scopes to see what kind of internal damage this tube is doing to me. It's suspected that there's likely problems on the inside too given how severe the reaction is on top. There is another tube available, but they want to make sure that I'm not allergic to the materials of it, so they've referred me for patch allergy testing. Unfortunately, I got the worst news ever about that today, it's not until the end of June. I can't imagine living in this much pain until sometime after that appointment. See, that appointment is just the consultation, then I'll have to wait for the actual testing to be done. Help seems so very, very far away right now.

It's my hope that sharing this, even though it's graphic can help other people. I can't be the only one who has ever experienced something like this. Perhaps if my team is able to pinpoint the answer, then perhaps my story might help someone else who is experiencing this. I also hope that this can bring light to a bigger problem: the problem of full disclosure in healthcare. As someone who has to purchase products to supposedly benefit my health, don't I deserve the right to know what is in the products that I am using? 

Welcome to the Dark Side

I've been struggling to put these words down on paper. Struggling to get them just right, just perfect, just exact enough to tell a story that you will want to read. With the way my ADHD brain jumps from idea to idea at speeds that make warp speed seem like standing still, combined with my awesome perfectionism (I've mastered the art of feeling the need to be perfect) and my dyslexia, putting words to paper can sometimes be a very slow go. Especially when it's a part of my life that I don't normally share. And especially as talking about all of this brings a flow of tears. This is a post about life on the Dark Side.

Anyone who follows my blog knows that I don't normally share the darker side of my feelings. Why? One easy answer: I care what people think. I want to inspire others. I want to be uplifting. I want to help others see that there is hope, that there is light, at the end of the tunnel. Then I got to thinking about the reasons I blog in the first place; to help other people. Sharing our stories is a way of connecting to others, a way of saying "Hey, you're not alone, look at my story". Our stories, good and bad, are part of our journey and people need to see the good, the bad and the ugly. Life isn't all unicorns and leprechauns. Real life has the good and the bad with it, and sometimes the bad does feel like it overpowers the good.

In another month, I will celebrate an anniversary. It will have been 4 years since the onset of my Crohn's Disease symptoms. In two weeks, I'm going for my 16th trip to the Operating Room. Until that time, I'm trying to avoid my 8th major hospitalization. I can't even tell you the number of pokes, painful tests, painful procedures like rectal ultrasounds and painful treatments that I've had to live through. That seems like a lot but in reality, that's just the physical stuff I have to go through daily. There's also a lot of emotional stuff that goes on in the background.

In 4 years of treatments, I haven't caught a break. I haven't felt any major improvements no matter what combination of drugs the "team" throws at me. In fact, since November I would say that I have physically felt even worse than I did when I was so sick that I needed my bowel out. I have been living every day in constant tear-inducing pain, unable to get quality sleep, having severe problems with nausea and vomiting (I feel like I should carry a bucket with me everywhere I go for emergencies), and oh yeah, did I mention the pain?! Every week brings a new health challenge, and it's hard to know when, or if, it will stop. I get people saying "if it were that serious you'd be in the hospital" or "you must be feeling better since you've been to the doctor". Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that in healthcare. When you are a chronic patient, you get stabilized at the hospital and once things are stable, even if they are stable on the horrible side, you are released and wait for the next step on your medical plan. Going to the doctor doesn't always make things immediately better.

 I've been to see at least 1 doctor every week for so long that I can't remember a week without a doctor's appointment. Every time I see a doctor, I hope beyond hope that this will be the visit that will change everything. I hope for relief, for some type of improvement. I hope to be able to describe perfectly what is going on with my body. I hope for the doctor's to listen and believe me, and to be patient with me when I break down into tears as I'm talking simply because it's overwhelming to talk about every single little problem all at once. I know that my confusing, complex health problems are overwhelming for health care professionals, but they're also overwhelming for me to live with daily.

I know I'm going to live with Crohn's Disease for the rest of my life. There is no current cure for it (and yes, I've tried different diets, supplements, medications, meditations...). I know that I should say that "I haven't let it control my life", but to be honest with you, it sortof does control my life right now. I'm not sure how it couldn't. I've had to give up being a Scout, as it's hard to go out and do physical activity like rowing a canoe, or going on an hours long hike, when it takes all of your energy just to get out of bed. I haven't really been to school yet this year. I can't go into the classroom and throw-up on my classmates, and I fear my tears and yelps in pain would only distract my friends. I've been away from school for so long (most of the last 2 years) that I don't really have any "normal" friendships. My life has become a series of waiting rooms, and waiting for waiting rooms.  And waiting for treatments to work, or more accurately, waiting to find a treatment that does work.

Welcome to my Dark Side.

It's heavy. It's crushing at times. I ask "why?", I ask "what's the point?". I get angry, frustrated, and exhausted. I cry. Nobody wants a dark side, and it's not something that we just go up to a stranger and start talking about. It's definitely not a conversation starter. In fact, most people get uncomfortable when you even come close to talking about the negative side of chronic disease. The socially acceptable answer to "How are you today?" is definitely not "Horrible, thanks, and you?".  Yet that is the honest response. Some days I really don't have much to say that is positive, other than "I'm alive, breathing and with a heart beating". And that truth makes a lot of people uncomfortable. I don't mean to be negative, I just mean to be real. It's always okay to be the real you, and real people have real problems.

How do I combat the Dark Side? Purpose and Belief. There has to be some point to it all. I believe that all of my experiences have had to happen for a greater reason, that there has been a purpose behind the suffering. Jacob's Healing Rooms fundraising project gives me purpose. It lets me take the ugliest of situations, the worst nightmares, the stuff that the Dark Side is made of, and make something beautiful come from it. It's a symbol of my Light Side doing battle against the forces of evil. Doing something to help improve other people's lives is my way of taking back a little sliver of my life. Every positive word someone shares with me, lets me know that what I'm doing is making a difference. In turn, that makes my Light Side glow a bit brighter. That keeps me motivated to keep doing what I'm doing. It's one of the better cycles that I like getting stuck in. The Dark Side might be scary, but it's not the whole picture when it comes to who I am. It's simply a part of me that reminds me of where I come from. It reminds me of the mountains that I've already climbed, and that my scars are symbols of battle wounds. My Dark Side makes my Light Side all that much more brighter.