Archive for April, 2013

Skiing Is Believing: Redefining What’s Possible

Written by on April 23rd, 2013 – No Comments

On Saturday, March 16th, 2013, I spent the entire day at Whistler Olympic Park, which was home to the Olympic and Paralympic Cross Country Skiing and Biathalon events. My friend Andrea asked me to come and be the photographer for the Skiing is Believing program and I jumped at the chance. I adore Whistler and I was more than happy to support the important work she and Paralympian Courtney Knight are doing.

The Skiing Is Believing program introduces people with disability to cross country skiing. Paralympians, their coaches and team of dedicated volunteers teach people with a variety of physical and sensory disabilities, (wheelchair users, amputees, people who are blind or visually impaired, people with cerebral palsy, etc.) as well as their friends and family to ski.


Here’s a peek at the program in action. That was Andrea talking about the program!

I spent the morning capturing various aspects of the program. It was a bit of a challenge because the weather was absolutely not cooperating-we had a combination of rain, rain mixed with slushy snow and then outright snow. I’d planned ahead though and brought an umbrella, as well as a Ziploc bag, some duct tape and scissors so I could McGyver a way to keep my camera dry. It was a good thing I did because by the end of the day, pretty much everything I owned was soaked. It pays to be prepared!


Written by on April 16th, 2013 – 8 Comments

The difficult parts of life are like a fight. The lifetime boxing match we all go through.

The first 24 years of my life were a challenge but it didn’t ever feel like a fight. Then MS came along and it was like a punch from out of nowhere that knocked me on my ass for years. But I got up. I fought. And I won the next few rounds. The fight wasn’t easy, but every round I kept coming out on top.

When heart surgery came around, it was easy because I could prepare. I knew how to fight it and it didn’t knock me down to bad. Eight weeks in bed with a month of “why me’s?” and I was back to my normal self.  The only difference was a massive scar on my chest.

Then my brother died and it was an uppercut that floored me. Right now I’m in the middle of getting back up and it’s really hard. There is no way I could have prepared for this punch. It’s the hardest one I have ever felt in my life. I’ve been kind of absent from everything for a while because I’m still trying to get up. The main thing is, I’m getting up. I am still fighting. I miss my brother so much. I am trying to get strength from him to get back up and get on with my life. 

None of us can prepare for the big hits.  It’s how we handle ourselves afterwards that shapes us into who we are.

I miss you Trev.


Written by on April 9th, 2013 – 2 Comments

It’s quite marvelous how easily my moods can swing from one continuum to the next, like my MS has gotten herself a rope and is playing monkey games with my head, swinging from one nerve cell to the next. There are some things that just bother me about my MS. Ever since going to university in 2011, I pride myself on showing off my smarts. I expect a lot of myself, a bit too much, and anything less then an A, is not okay in my books. I’m known in most of my classes as the achiever or the know it all, that I’m just really smart and it’s just not fair to the other kids. I find this downright hilarious because if they had seen me before, I was doing drugs twice a day. I was the kid people said would be dead by 20. And now here I am. I guess on the bright side, I am both book and street smart.

Then you have my disease. No one would ever guess that I had MS. My friends are all high achievers, either in medical school/law school/business school/with masters under their belts/organizations on their belts/ and so forth. They are not the people you share your weaknesses with. Even though I go with the perfect act, I am very aware of my fatigue, of the slight tremors present in my left hand when I write/type and the headaches, which are all signs of my MS screaming because she is simply dying for my attention! The friends I have told, they laugh it off, they don’t believe me, they call me a bad person for “pretending” I’m disabled. It’s only when I shove my needles in front of their face do they stop laughing. It’s only when I put the CD of an MRI scan I had gotten from a past research study, which shows my countless lesions, blaring bright on my laptop screen, do they stop smiling.  Then they either treat me like I’m infected or pretend the past 15-30 minutes never happened. Tada, magic!

This week I had gotten enough…


A slap in the face ??? … or 2?

Written by on April 2nd, 2013 – 5 Comments

 Going on 9 years with this stupid illness and I always manage to get a violent slap in the face to bring me back to my senses. 

On Jan 10th I went to sleep eating way too many cookies that I had just baked for my cousins baby shower that Sunday.  When I say “Way too many” ok it was only 3, but that’s MORE than I should have had.  I felt like my head was starting to hurt, but getting a headache was nothing new for me.  I woke up at 2:30am thinking “ugh I better call into work sick this morning, I don’t feel good” and fell back asleep.

I woke up that morning (Friday) at 3am and made a mad run to the bathroom.  By 9am I was laying flat on the floor in my underwear so I could feel how cold the floor was (let’s keep in mind here in Sask. It was -41), it felt amazing as I attempted to cool my body down from what I thought was the flu.  9:30am I quickly realized “this is NOT the flu”.  Our hospital isn’t the best hospital to be at over the weekend, so I figured I would give it the weekend to see improvement and if I wasn’t better, deal with it Monday.

By the time Monday came I was 100% in a relapse, with symptoms I had never experienced before?! Vertigo & vision loss are common for me, no panic there.  Where did this “frostbite” feeling come from… EVERYWHERE on my body!!??

When I saw my neuro that afternoon he took one look at me and admitted me into the hospital for the week.