How to Beat Brain Fog

By Wendy Caroline

As I sat down to write my column for this week, a massive wave of writer’s block hit me. This has been plaguing me for a while. Great timing, right?!

I started five different column pieces, each of which I would get a solid start on, and then nothing. I stopped understanding where the piece was going and didn’t like any of the words that I was writing. A few years ago, I started developing chronic fatigue. It started slowly, then quickly snowballed. In the past year, it has developed into brain fog. Very frustrating. I love using my brain for writing, reading, problem-solving, and critical thinking. It increasingly feels like cystic fibrosis is taking all these parts of my personality away from me. So here I am today, compiling a list of some tips and tricks that I use to combat brain fog and feel a little more like myself.

1. Don’t force it.

I can’t tell you how many times I have blocked my own brain by trying to force my way through brain fog. “Just do it.” How many times have we heard that? Unfortunately, at least for me, if I “just do it” and try to force myself to work through the brain fog, it just puts up more blocks. Then I get frustrated, and all I can think about is how I can’t think. It just spirals from there.

Cool, so how do you get past brain fog and still make your deadlines (because if you’re forcing it, that’s often why)? Be ahead of the game. I am guilty of this not being a natural instinct. In fact, I’m still learning how to do this. I used to be a procrastinator. I would thrive under the stress. My brain fog does not. Now I start writing and drafting at least a week before.

2. Get inspired.

One of the best ways to get inspired is to look to others. CF News Today columnist Brad Dell’s latest piece about brain fog directly inspired this post. It got me thinking about my own experience with brain fog, and how I have been insanely frustrated by its hold on my life. Find a piece of other people’s lives or the world around you that makes you think about your own. Capture it and go. I find that making a note of these inspirations in a note-taking app on my phone really helps because brain fog causes forgetfulness.

2. Create the mood.

Ditch the phone and whatever other fancy gizmos that cause a distraction. Find the type of environment that makes you feel inspired and ready to work. For me, that’s open space with lots of natural light and structured seating.

Next, put on some music — music that is going to make you focus and productive. My go-to is this Classical Essentials playlist on shuffle. This helps me drown out enough thoughts that I won’t get distracted without drowning out the thoughts that I need to work. Whatever you listen to, just make sure it doesn’t have words.

It’s also important to get your brain in the right mood. My brain fixates on chores and tasks that need doing, so I always make sure to get those done before I sit down to write. Also yoga and meditation, that’s some great stuff.

4. Let it flow.

A friend of mine gave me this very useful tip. Just let the words flow out of you, even if you don’t like them. When I use this technique, I have to write everything my heart desires and then walk away. Don’t reread it right then. You will get frustrated. Instead, write all you can and come back to it after you’ve had a solid break. For me, this is usually the next day. Your rough work can have a really good base but just needs to be re-worked.

I know that these tips and tricks are focused on writing, but I use the general ideas in all aspects of my life. Whether it is work, family, friends, or hobbies, brain fog can affect every aspect of your life. It’s one of the reasons that I haven’t been very active on any of my social media platforms — Instagram, YouTube, Facebook, and even my blog. As my brain fog developed into almost a daily issue, I took a step back and prioritized what I needed to focus on first. I truly believe that as these steps of beating brain fog become a habit, I will be able to handle more. Hopefully, you’ll see me around the internet again real soon.

» Find me on the internet at The Living, Breathing Wendy «

This article was originally published on CF News Today.

This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition.

Jerry Cahill’s CF Podcast: The Pre-Transplant Process with Dr. Emily DiMango

The latest video in The Path Forward with Cystic Fibrosis series, Dr. Emily DiMango, Director of the Gunnar Esiason Adult CF Program at Columbia University Medical Center, discusses the lung transplant process through the lens of a CF doctor.

First, she reviews the importance of CF patients participating in drug trials in order to start life-changing medications sooner. She then answers the following questions:

· What does pre-transplant management look like for a CF patient?
· When is the right time to be referred to the list?
· What is the referral process like?

Finally, she reiterates the importance of well-rounded treatment that includes physical health, nutritional health, and emotional health.

This video was originally posted on JerryCahill.com

Cystic Fibrosis Awareness: Sharing A Story & The Facts

Cystic fibrosis is a devastating disease. About 30,000 children and adults have cystic fibrosis (CF) in The United States. While the life expectancy for someone with CF has doubled in the last 30 years, children and adults people still lose their lives to this disease every day. There is no cure yet. It’s time to find it.

How can you help? Use your voice and get involved! Participate in Great Strides walks and other events supporting CF and share the facts on social media and in your community. The Cystic Fibrosis Foundation is working hard to find a cure. Other foundations and organizations help the CF community as well. Like the CF Roundtable which supports adults with CF, there is a foundation that supports children and families living with CF: Claire’s Place Foundation.

Claire’s Place Foundation, founded by Claire Wineland, when she was just 14 years old, is a 501c3 non-profit organization designed to help children and families affected by cystic fibrosis. Claire was born with CF. In her short life, Claire has undergone more than 20 surgeries and has spent months at a time in the hospital.  She survived months in a coma on mechanical ventilation despite the odds and was also a Make-a-Wish recipient. She has 40% of ideal lung function and the doctors have estimated two years left to live. This is not, however, what characterizes or defines her. Claire has dedicated her life work to making a difference in the lives of others living with CF.

Now 21 years old as an adult living with CF, Claire’s Place Foundation is a way for Claire to give back with hope, strength, and joy.  She wants to live with intention and purpose. In her own words, “I know my life will be shorter so every day has meaning.”  She strives to find new ways to help the CF community and other children afflicted with chronic illness. Claire’s Place is making a huge impact through its two programs – The Extended Hospital Stay Fund and the Family Support Program.  These programs are in high demand and the foundation needs your donations to continue assisting young patients in need. You can meet Claire and support her foundation at her next fundraiser, “Glow Ride,” on August 18, 2018 in Hermosa Beach, CA.

To find others ways you can help bring awareness to CF find a local chapter near you.

Get involved. Donate. Come to events.

Call for Articles Published in CF Roundtable! Due June 15th

When disaster strikes, what is important to you??

What are the things that you know you must have with you in the event of a disaster, either natural or manmade? Where do you keep these essential items? What plans have you made for surviving when basic services are interrupted? It could be even as small of a disaster as when your air conditioning goes out in the heat of summer? How do you manage?

Please consider contributing to CF Roundtable by sharing some of the experiences of your life. In addition to the focus topic, we welcome humorous stories, articles on basic life experiences, short stories, artwork, cartoons, and poetry. We require that all submissions be original and unpublished.

With your submission, please include a recent photo of yourself as well as your name, address, and telephone number. Photos will be returned. Or email a high-resolution JPEG along with your article. Type or hand-print your submission, using a plain font, not script, and please double-space your article.

Submissions due June 15, 2018.

Mail To: CF Roundtable, PO Box 1618, Gresham, OR 97030-0519

Email To: cfroundtable@usacfa.org

Calling All Students! LMK Scholarship deadline June 30th!

CF Roundtable offers the Lauren Melissa Kelly (LMK) Scholarship award each semester, in honor of Lauren Melissa Kelly. The academic scholarships of up to $2500 are awarded to adults with cystic fibrosis who are pursuing career certifications, associates, and bachelor and graduate degrees.

Nancy Wech, Lauren’s mother, established this scholarship in Lauren’s name and memory. In Nancy’s own words:

Lauren Melissa Kelly was an extraordinary woman. Laughing, gregarious, spontaneous, fun, talkative, driven, thoughtful, smart, kind and loving — all descriptive terms for Lauren, who lost her battle with CF late in her senior year at the University of Georgia. In 1992, Lauren was chosen as one of ten Senior Leaders at University of Georgia. She had distinguished herself as a member of the Golden Key Honor Society, Mortar Board, Phi Upsilon Omicron, Gamma Beta Phi, the Tate Society and Delta Gamma sorority.

Lauren felt the most significant opportunities of her college career included participation in the reconstruction and formation of organizations, which will serve the university in the future. She acted as one of the re-founding members of the Phi Kappa Literary Society and was significant in the metamorphosis of the Z Club into the William Tate Society. Her other activities included Greeks Advocating Mature Management of Alcohol (GAMMA) in which she served as Secretary and Special Events Chair. She was also a member of the Women’s Glee Club for more than two years.

In recognition of her academic performance, Lauren’s degree of Bachelor of Science in Family and Consumer Sciences was awarded posthumously. At the time of her death, Lauren was engaged to be married and living off campus in an apartment. She lived life to the fullest!

Walt Disney said, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened. It’s not the days in life you remember, it’s the moments.” As Lauren’s mother stated, “I smile because she happened to me. Now, I want you to smile because she has happened to you.”

Please visit our website for application and full scholarship criteria and details. http://www.cfroundtable.com/community-outreach/united-states-adult-cystic-fibrosis-association-scholarship/

Send any questions to scholarships@usacfa.org.

Lessons Learned Through Parenting and CF

Guest Blog By Jeannine Ricci

Back in 2001, when I became a mother, resources on parenting
with CF were practically nonexistent. Thanks to all of the
research advancements, it’s so exciting to now see more and
more people with CF exploring the possibility of parenthood.
Because this topic is becoming more prevalent, I thought it might
be a good time to resurrect an article that I wrote 5 years ago. It
discusses my experience with talking with my children about CF
and the possibility of a shortened life expectancy. Hopefully it will
help other parents as they face this challenging subject.
At the end of the article, I give an update on my daughters
and how their experience with my CF continues to impact their
lives.

***Lessons Learned- Parenting with CF***

My CF has shaped my children’s lives for as long as they can
remember. As toddlers, they developed patience. After many
temper tantrums, they eventually learned that I had to finish my
treatments before we embarked on our day’s adventures. As
preschoolers they learned empathy. They would run to get me
tissues and water if I was having a coughing fit. Their teachers
would comment on the level of empathy they showed their
classmates and how unusual it was at such a young age. During
their school years, they are learning to become more
independent. Just last week, my older daughter surprised me by
making their lunches and helping her sister with her homework
because she knew I was not feeling well.

Since CF had been woven into their everyday lives, I took their
comfort level with my CF for granted. They knew that CF meant
coughing, treatments, and IVs. What they did not know was that
it is a life-threatening disease. I regret having not broached this
subject with them as soon as I felt they were mature enough to
handle this information. Last year my daughter’s teacher called
to tell me that he was concerned about her. She was not herself
at school. She was very distracted and seemed depressed. I
knew immediately what was bothering her. I was on IVs because
of an especially difficult exacerbation. The side effects of the
antibiotics left me on the couch most of the day. It was the
sickest she had ever seen me. We had a long discussion after the
phone call and she opened up to me and told me how she had
read something at the CF walk that stated that the life
expectancy of someone with CF was 37 years old. I was 40. It
truly broke my heart to know that I was not there to answer her
questions and ease her fears when she read this critical piece of
information. She deserved to hear this from me. As I spoke to
her, I tried to give her realistic but hopeful answers. I told her
that I wanted nothing more than to watch her and her sister
grow up and that I hoped to be there for her college graduation,
her wedding, and the birth of her children. I explained that there
are so many new medicines being discovered that would help to
make this a possibility, but I also told her that there are no
guarantees, and that is why I try so hard to keep myself as
healthy as possible.

Just as my children have always incorporated important life
lessons from my illness into their lives, I believe that this
discussion will only further strengthen their character. It will
teach them the value of treating every day as a gift. I hope my
experience encourages other parents with CF to be prepared to
have this pivotal discussion with their children. No matter how
difficult it may seem, it will be worth the peace of mind knowing
that you will be the one delivering this information, ready to help
them cope with their fears.

Here are some guidelines from Lisa C. Greene, a mom of two
children with CF and co-author with Foster Cline, M.D. of the book
Parenting Children with Health Issues (www.PCWHI.com)

• Pivotal parenting moments can take us by surprise, so be
prepared ahead of time. Our answers should be honest, calm,
matter-of-fact, and hopeful. We shouldn’t use terms like “fatal”
or “life-shortening” nor should we make empty promises. Use
terms like “healthier” rather than “healthy,” “more likely to live a
long time” rather than “will live a long time.”

• We need to try our best not to let our own fears and worries
show, both in our words and in our body language. Children pick
up on (and tend to mirror) their parents’ emotional cues,
especially when they are young. If you are having trouble
controlling your own emotions about these tough issues,
counseling might be helpful.

• At some point, we do need to address the issue of life
expectancy. Hopefully, this will be clarified by around the age of
eight (around 3rd grade) depending on the maturity of your
child. One way to address this issue is to ask your child questions
to open up dialogue. Some examples are:
“How much do you know about CF?”
“How are you handling it?”
“Is there anything about CF that worries you?”

With a little awareness and preparation, you can make talking
about these difficult issues a positive experience. Relationships
can grow closer when people go through tough times together.

Update: 5 Years Later
It’s no surprise that this disease has continued to shape my
daughters’ lives over the past 5 years. There’s no denying that my CF, anxiety, and depression have caused many hardships for my family. And it’s
difficult not get swallowed up in the guilt of knowing that there
are times that I’m not able to be the mom that I desire to be, the
mom that they deserve. During these times, I try my best to
focus on the positive ways CF has touched their lives.

The attributes of fortitude and courage were fostered as they
watched my battle with CF progression as it inched its way closer
and closer to the center of my life–our lives–demanding more
attention. And then, in November of 2014, they witnessed hope
being transformed into tangible reality as I swallowed my first
dose of Kalydeco. This new reality has allowed them to more
confidently envision me by their sides in the distant future. They
have embraced this gift with a deep sense of gratitude that can
only be felt when someone has experienced the threat of the
unbearable alternative.

They have watched as this same gratitude has fueled my desire
to help others who are still waiting for their miracle. At the young
ages of 15 and 17, they possess a keen understanding of the
intrinsic value in every life, and that the amount of money in
someone’s bank account or what type of insurance they have
should not be dictating access to these life-saving medications.

They have learned the importance of taking action and
advocating for others, even if your voice is seemingly
overpowered by others. They have both participated in the Cystic
Fibrosis Foundation’s Teen Advocacy Days in Washington D.C.
the last few years, meeting with members of Congress and
stressing the importance of ensuring adequate healthcare
coverage for all. They recognize the gifts both given and received when you touch a person’s life indelibly and both of my daughters have expressed an interest in pursuing a career in the healthcare field. 

I’m so proud of them as I watch them develop into
compassionate, strong, young women, inspired to make their
mark on this world; a mark that undoubtedly would not be so
deep and impactful if it wasn’t for the valuable life lessons they
have gleaned from having someone they love with CF.

26 Years and Counting with CF

By Ella Balasa

The day I was born, the median life expectancy of someone living with cystic fibrosis was 31. Although I haven’t reached that median yet, I feel like I’ve beaten the odds.

During past birthdays, my parents, brother, and I celebrated with cakes filled with raspberry layers and chocolate frosting. The cake always had my name written across the top in big, pink, block letters, and the number of candles matched the number of years lived. I remember my dad’s voice quivering just slightly by the time he sang the last “Happy Birthday” lyric. I think that he sheds an extra tear of joy, metaphorically, for each year I get older. He’s happier than the year before, that I’m one year closer to living the long life he hopes and prays his little girl would have.

I know my parents have always had a seed of heartache that they’ve kept hidden far in the back of their thoughts, watered by the knowledge that they may outlive their youngest daughter. It’s a feeling unknown to me; I can only imagine the fear.

I realize that my disease continues to progress with each passing year, causing a gradual decline in the intensity of accomplishable physical activities. My birthday is somewhat of a grim reminder of what I’ve lost over time. It’s marked by at least one less thing I can do.

Toward the end of my high school years, my brother was my exercise coach. He was always encouraging (sometimes nagging) me to do frog hops down the driveway and sprints from the mailbox to the stop sign on the corner. I also was running about 1 mile, or half of one, in my neighborhood on the days I felt extra motivated. One early summer day, at the end of my loop, about half a block before I reached the stop sign on my corner, I felt the urge to cough. When I got to the corner, I started coughing globs of pure blood while bracing myself against the sign. It was one of the last times I ran. That was the year I turned 18.

When I turned 21, I stopped working out at a gym and instead got a treadmill and weights at home because I had started to require supplemental oxygen while exercising. Without the extra oxygen, my blood oxygenation levels would dip into a range that could cause damage to my heart. My lungs began failing at the job they are required to do: supply oxygen from the air into my blood vessels and to the rest of my organs.

I was using a nasal cannula and carrying around a machine that puffed loudly with every breath, but I couldn’t allow people to see me as abnormal. I still have a hard time being in public with the supplemental oxygen, and although I don’t yet require using it constantly, it’s caused my illness to become visible rather than invisible, as it typically was — and I struggle with that.

Last year, when I was 25, I learned what it feels like to do a 500-pound deadlift. Except I wasn’t in a competition. I was bringing just two bags of groceries into my house from my car less than 50 feet away. During infection exacerbations in my lungs, I am unable to walk at a normal pace, much less carry anything, due to my airways feeling like they are the diameter of a toothpick, and the lack of oxygen my body is receiving. During these times, I feel my body needing the extra oxygen that I sometimes deprive it of because of my unwillingness to show the signs of my disease.

Based on this column thus far, it might seem as though I lament on the difficulties. Honestly, I don’t notice much when my breathing becomes less limited. It’s easier to notice when my breath is restricted and I feel my body producing less, functioning less.

Despite these reflections on my inabilities, I don’t remember my birthdays for all the things I couldn’t do in that year. I do remember everything I could and did do, both on that day and the 364 days in between. For my 10th birthday, I remember having a picnic in the park and running around the playgrounds playing hide-and-seek. For my 21st, I remember going to a local bar, Baja Bean, and getting the coveted sombrero so everyone would know I was celebrating my big day. For my most recent, the 26th, I rode in a small seaplane over the city, then landed into the river.

Birthdays have always been, and always will be, a celebration of my life. It’s the progression over time, despite my best efforts to stay as healthy as I possibly can, that I’ve found to be somewhat discouraging at times.

When I blow out my 27 candles next year, there will certainly be a diminishment in my physical abilities. But I won’t be dwelling on it. I’ll be thinking about all of the new things I did, the places I went, and the people I met.

To read the original article, please click here.

Freedom!

Guest post by: Kathy Russell

Today was a terrific day! We have just experienced a three-day series of high temperatures in the 80s. In the middle of summer that would be quite normal, but getting that kind of weather in April is extremely rare in my part of Oregon. I made the most of those days.

In our front yard, we have a very old and very large black walnut tree. There is a brick planter built around the base of the tree and there are various plants, including several sword ferns, growing in it. The sword ferns are beautiful if they are properly groomed. Each year, when the weather permits, I get out and cut away all of the old fronds to make room for new growth.

I didn’t get to do that last year because of my health. I just didn’t have the energy to do the bending and twisting that the task entails. Also, since I am on continuous oxygen, it makes getting out to the tree a bit problematic. Dragging my portable oxygen concentrator (POC) while I am pruning the ferns is a bit of a pain. I bend over and cut some old fronds, then I have to stand up and drag the POC to my next position. It makes it more of a chore and a lot less fun than it used to be before I was on oxygen.

Yesterday I worked on a couple of ferns that I could reach with the length of hose that is on my big concentrator. That was fairly workable, but I couldn’t go beyond the range of my hose. Also, I couldn’t reach two of the ferns. After about an hour I was getting too hot and decided to stop working on a large fern that was at the end of my tether.

Today, my husband took my large concentrator outside and plugged it into an outdoor outlet. With the 75 feet of hose that I have on it, I had a lot of freedom to move around. I was able to finish the fern that I left yesterday and finish the final two. I didn’t have to worry about running out of hose length and I felt so unencumbered. It was so great to be able to move around like a normal person. I absolutely loved that feeling of freedom. It was almost like not even being on oxygen.

My oxygen saturation stayed in a very good range and I got a couple of hours of fresh air. I was mostly in shade so I didn’t have to worry about being in the sun too long. Having the ability to move around and not have to drag a POC was a real gift as far as I am concerned.

Stream “Up for Air” Documentary this Month for Free!

Jerry Cahill‘s documentary, “Up for Air”, provides viewers with an inside look at his personal fight for survival while living with #CF. During national #DonateLifeMonth (4/1 – 4/30) use the code: BEANORGANDONOR to watch the documentary for FREE! Tap the link to watch: https://vimeo.com/137872395

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Jerry Unplugged: Bouncin’ Back

Well, here I sit, staring at four walls, unable to ride my bike, work out, coach, or run. I’m stuck here in my apartment for the next two weeks as I recover from a partial knee replacement. This lifestyle is not me at all. I’m frustrated, and it would be easy to get discouraged, but I can’t afford to.
I’ve just listed some of the many things I can’t do, but I’m focusing on what I can and must do in order to live the way I want to live. I must stay focused on the positive and on my recovery. It’s the only way to bounce back to my version of normal.

Continue reading Jerry Unplugged: Bouncin’ Back