This is pretty scary to share with you...

Will it seem like too much info? Will it make you worry about me? Change your trust in my ability to support healing and growth for clients? 

But I want to share with you anyway. Here's why: 

I don't want you to gaslight yourself about health issues, mentally, physically, or otherwise. 

In November of 2019, I attended a retreat for the first time. To get there, I took 4 flights from New York, traveling for more than a day to get to Bali. There was so much that was incredible about this experience, from a fantastic first surfing lesson with Hana (founder of Re:Boot Experiences and badass surfer), to making the decision to leave my corporate job, to the first seeds of starting my business that were inspired by our work together.

But one particular experience was both awe-inspiring and hard as hell.

Around 3:30am, we loaded into a van to drive to Mount Batur, "an active volcano located at the center of two concentric calderas" according to Wikipedia. 

After a long drive, we emerged to meet our guide, still in total darkness. He passed around flashlights and asked if we would prefer the easier hike, competing with motorbikes carrying people up to the top, or if we wanted to do the hard trail, which was a straight shot up but only for hikers. 

We agreed to the harder route. After about 10 steps, I regretted that decision. We were hiking up loose volcanic rocks that made it feel like I was taking 5 steps up and 10 steps back on a sharp angle up. 

My face grew hot and despite the darkness, I knew that my cheeks were red. I could taste blood in my breath, and it felt like my heart might explode out of my chest. I didn't think I could catch my breath, and paused occasionally but refused to keep the group from that incredible sunrise view. After my 3rd pause, the guide gently took hold of my arm and practically pulled me up to the top. 

Yes, it's a challenging hike. We were up against the rising sun, for some of us a once-in-a-lifetime experience, so we were also moving even more quickly than you would usually go up the volcano in darkness, but it felt nearly impossible for me.

As I fought to catch my breath, I was dismayed. Along side the physical difficulty, I spent much of the journey to the top emotionally berating myself. "Why can't you do this?!" an inner voice scolded. 

And yet, in the persistent judgmental inner monologue, it never once occurred to me that there could be something going on in my body beyond my control. It was only that I wasn't trying hard enough, that I was doing it wrong, or that I still hadn't done enough to prepare for this.

At that time, I had been hiking most weekends, going to 2-3 intense workout or yoga classes a week, and generally found I was able to get through physical challenges without much difficulty. 

A voice of shame got stronger as I struggled to take each step, as the others in the group continued up, mostly with ease. 

When I got home to New York a few days later, I noticed my heart rate seemed to be stuck on full speed, or as I've now started referring to it, "rabbit speed." 

I found a cardiologist and went in as soon as I could to see if he could find the answer - both to my physical issues and as a retort to the snarky voice within me that I met during the hike.

He diagnosed a heart arrhythmia, and offered to schedule a heart surgery. 

Ummmm my first question was, "is this heart thing dangerous?" "No, just annoying," he said. 

"Great. No heart surgery thanks."

Then came the pandemic and I nearly forgot about the diagnosis for over a year. 

About a month ago, I went for a routine visit to my OBGYN. I explained to her that I had the new-ish diagnosis of the heart arrhythmia. She felt my neck and tilted her head.

"Let's do some bloodwork."

In total, I've done 3 rounds of bloodwork the last month including at my OBGYN visit. 

I've also found an endocrinologist, who has confirmed that I have an autoimmune disorder called Graves' Disease. 

"Graves" for the Irish doctor who first identified the issue in the mid-1800s. 

What it means is this: My body is making antibodies that are attacking my thyroid, leading to hyperthyroidism, or simply, an overactive thyroid. 

I've also learned that it runs on both sides of my family and as far as the medical world understands the cause, it's purely genetic. 

It can lead to rapid heart rate, shaky hands, anxiety, and long term, much bigger issues, like thyroid storms that can put people into a coma if untreated quickly. But if treated with medicine, can fully go into remission after about 2 years. 

It's meant that the last few weeks, I've been resting hard, taking a high dose of medication to kickstart my thyroid sorting itself out which will decrease over time, and my heart rate has decreased from 129bpm to 88bpm. 

All of which means, I can actually hike again happily without losing my breath. 

Maybe hiking Mount Batur at sunrise will be a twice-in-a-lifetime experience. 😉

...

P.S. If you have any questions about Graves' Disease, feel free to email me at [email protected]. You can also visit The American Thyroid Association to learn more about this weird gland that is apparently connected to pretty much everything in the body!

 Here are some photos of me at the top of Mount Batur at sunrise and our cute snacks and lovely group at the top: