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Home » Articles » Inspiration
Waking to my grandmother's hands
by Kim Moldofsky
Two weeks ago I woke up to my grandmother’s hands. It wasn’t her gentle caress rousing me from sleep; rather, it seemed that her stiff, arthritic hands somehow replaced mine in the night. It was like the movie Freaky Friday in which a teenager and her middle-aged mom mysteriously switch bodies except I’m 35 and my nana passed away at 72. Like a curious infant I stared at my hands as I wiggled my unfamiliar digits. Where did these come from? How do they work?
Nearly a decade ago I was diagnosed with an autoimmune dysfunction. Autoimmune diseases include about 80 serious chronic illnesses in which the body’s immune system attacks the organs it was designed to protect. In my disease, Sjogren’s (show-grins) Syndrome (SS), the immune system assaults the body’s moisture producing glands--the ones that make tears and saliva. SS is often found in conjunction with more complex autoimmune diseases like lupus or rheumatoid arthritis. Although the diagnostic blood tests that revealed my illness included a sky-high rheumatoid factor, I had no arthritic symptoms.
An autoimmune alarm clock
My paternal grandmother developed rheumatoid arthritis in her 30s and I have a maternal cousin with multiple autoimmune illnesses. Rather than a typical biological clock, I have more of an autoimmune alarm clock. My SS is fairly stable and manageable. My eyes are too dry for contact lenses and I must drink water in order to speak clearly and swallow food, but these are nuisances, not disabilities. For the most part, I’ve been able to hit the snooze button and continue on. I lead an active life with my busy family. For nearly two years I’ve been exercising regularly including twice-weekly karate training. In fact, I’m in the best shape of my life, so it was a bit surprising when my buzzing autoimmune clock awoke me to a new reality.
In this new life I envisioned morphing into my grandmother: a frail, bedridden woman. Or maybe my cousin with her swollen arthritic fingers. I made an appointment with my rheumatologist.
With two young children I tend to opt for phone consultations when problems arise. The fact that I showed up in his office probably revealed more than any blood test could. Fortunately, Dr. F. did not give me the gloom and doom prognosis I feared. He showed concern, ordered diagnostics and gave me permission to tell my husband when I needed a nap or extra help without feeling like I was simply being lazy. He encouraged me to continue the routines of my life as best I could, including my karate.
Breaking boards
Karate training strengthens my body, focuses my mind and builds my spirit. It’s something I hope to continue for many years. "Just don’t go breaking four-inch boards," he joked. I assured him that in all my training time, I’d never seen boards at my dojo (training hall).
To my surprise, the following week my karate sensei presented me with a board. It was less than an inch thick, so I wouldn't be going against doctor’s orders if I tried to break it. Kick-crash-smash--I did it!
The broken board pieces now decorate my bedroom wall. On one half I glued a circa-1990 Nike ad. It reads: "You are not destined to become the women who came before you… So if you inherit something, inherit their strength…inherit their resilience. Because the only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be."
Those pieces are a reminder of my own strength--strength I never imagined I had. I read the quote and think about my grandmother and begin to see her as a strong woman who put her pain aside to raise two boys and lived long enough to know all of her grandchildren. Rather than view my cousin as a victim of her own body, I reframe her as one who endures--a strong-willed wife and mother of three with a successful career. I refocus my own health problems, too; instead of dwelling on my poor genetic inheritance I try to rejoice in my rich spiritual one--resilience, persistence, courage. And instead of fretting over the stiff hands I wake with each morning I remind myself that I am still capable of touching many lives.
About the author:
Kim Moldofsky is a mother, wife, karate student, freelance writer, blogger and office temp extraordinaire. Her writing can be found in Chicago Parent magazine as well as at www.austinmama.com and www.mombo.org. You can also check out her blog, Hormone-Colored Days, to read her musings on chronic illness, parenting and chick stuff.
Photo by Laura Friedlander, Kim's excellent friend and photographer. Check out Laura's work here.
This essay is reprinted with the author's permission. It appears in the book From There to Here: Points on the Circle of Life, a collection of personal stories, poems and photographs. It was published in 2005 by JRC Press in Evanston, Ill. For ordering and availability contact JRC Press.
Posted: 1/29/2006 in Inspiration | Also posted in: Coping
