Please Love Me Through This

Last year, around this time, I did something brave.  Despite seven-years of illness, limited mobility, multiple food/environmental/med sensitivities, ongoing IV’s, and great fear, I responded to a request on Facebook. 



“Calling all trustworthies looking for a Texas adventure! I am traveling for about 7 weeks from Mid-May and am looking for someone lovely who'd like to stay in my quirky Texas Panhandle house about 10 minutes from the edge of Amarillo. 2 cats, 360-degree skies, some indoor plants...PM me if intrigued and we can talk.”

For reasons only God understands, I had to go. 

I knew, if I did, it would change my life completely. 



“What if something happens?” my family asked, when I told them the news. 

"Who will take care of you?”

Their fears weren’t unfounded.

Diagnosed with Lyme, Chronic Fatigue, Dysautonomia, Autoimmune Pancreatitis, Mast Cell Activation Disorder, and Crohn’s Disease, they’ve walked me through hundreds of medical emergencies since 2010. 



-They’ve seen me go from laughing to passed out on the floor.

-They’ve witnessed the rashes…the anaphylactic shock…the muscle contractions…the inability to speak.

-They’ve heard doctors say "you should be dead" and rescued me from OR recovery rooms.

-They understand how serious and painful chronic pancreatitis can be. How it requires no food or liquids by mouth for days…sometimes weeks.

-They recognize having multiple, rare conditions makes me easily harmed by physicians and emergency rooms. 

My health can be delicate. That’s the truth of it.

But it's not the WHOLE of it. 



What they didn’t know…what I had quietly been learning for two-years prior…was a new relationship to healing…one that required me to be someone I didn’t know how to be: a person who could trust her body. 



It started when I was diagnosed with neurogenic bladder, handed a handful of catheters, and told I'd never be able to pee (unassisted) again.

“I can’t do this anymore,”  I wept to my friend Rhonda.  
“I can’t eat. I can’t breathe. Now, I can’t pee?”


"What if they're wrong?" she asked.



Turns out, they were. After five+ years searching for answers, and hundreds of medical experts spanning six states, I got something: They’re ALL just guessing...and if they’re just guessing, I’m gonna start guessing too.



"God, if you're up there (I didn't wholly believe in God at that time), I need you to guide me,”  I prayed.  “I need you to show me in NO uncertain terms when I'm on the right path and when I'm not. If you do, I will  listen.”



Not sure exactly HOW to do that, I began each day with prayer and meditation. 

“Show me who you need me to be,” I’d say to Him (and, my body, by proxy).
“Send me where you want me to go.”

Over time, I began to notice patterns...

How my hands would repeatedly drop certain foods or pills that didn’t benefit me.  
How I would lose my balance around specific people and places.  
Eventually, I also began receiving mental thoughts and images.

A giant “X” would come to mind, as a doctor recommended a medication.


God would whisper “make art for people who ask” and the next day someone would request a painting.



The idea that our bodies could house SO much insight and knowledge or that God could be so personal and loving completely overwhelmed me.

  “How long have you been speaking and I just didn’t hear?” I cried, recalling years of carpet stains from fumbled smoothies and medications. 

Moved by all my body had done to get my attention, I immersed myself in muscle testing (applied kinesiology), exposure therapy, meditation, intuitive artwork, EFT, and prayer.



As a result, illness became less about symptoms, and more about acceptance. My body—once the enemy—now, my spiritual teacher.

“Slow down.”
“ Pay attention.”
 “Don’t give up,” she would say, often surprising me (and others) in the process.  As my faith grew, I took bigger leaps…many that challenged my logical judgement. 



-> Driving to Texas was the start.

-> This fundraiser to ask for help, an important milestone. 



I believe I am healing.

I believe (despite doctor’s opinions) there’s hope for me. 

I believe illness has made me a kinder, gentler, more loving person.

I believe God wants to use my experience to help facilitate healing for others.



In the future, I see myself teaching, leading seminars, guiding people to love and trust themselves. 

To do that, I need help;
I can no longer do this on my own.



“There are three important things to remember on any journey,” a friend recently reminded me.



1) Be a YES. 

2) Ask for what you need. 

3) Remember the unexpected will always bring something special. 



Inside that, I am creating the possibility of being loved and supported…to love my life (with or without illness), and to help others do the same.



In the past, many of you have asked“What can I do?”   
I’ve struggled with this.  
I don’t need one thing; 
I need hundreds of little things.

Trial/Emergency medications…

Surgery co-pays…

Further training/therapy to increase medical/personal self-sufficiency…

Alternative healthcare…

Some of the financial weight lifted off my husband's shoulders…

Weekly IV's..

MRI’s/Ultrasounds/CT scans…



Much of this (I’ve been told) I’ll need for the rest of my life.



Just today, my port (the implanted catheter that allows IV’s to flow to my heart) got blocked. Eight hours, five phone calls, four self-inflicted huber needle sticks, $150, and two IV’s later, I am stable. You can’t plan for this stuff; it just happens. And, unfortunately, in my world, it happens too much.



Over the past several months, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I need and how to ask for help, but without some concrete label (ie chemo, an advised trip to John’s Hopkins, a kidney transplant, $100k for trial medication), I’ve felt kinda stuck.



The truth?



I’m afraid you don’t understand chronic illness.

I’m afraid, if I ask now, you may not be there in the future. 

I’m afraid you’ll judge my medical choices or offer unsolicited advice (have you read?? you should try…).

I’m afraid you won’t care enough to respond.



Whatever the case, in honor of who I’m becoming, I am no longer willing to let fear consume me.  So, with deep breaths, for those of you who’d like to support, here’s a very specific list of things that would make a HUGE difference for my health, my family, and my future. 



20-co-pay specialist payments of $45 each

12-car payments of $402.07 each

2-car insurance payments of $637.13

15-visceral manipulation appointments at $125 each

20-pelvic floor therapy appointments at $40 each

$1297 to become a certified Body Code Practitioner

$500 for herbs and medications

$645 for gas for upcoming medical travel to Texas, NM, and Colorado

$157.46 for 2-nights lodging in Colorado

$485 for an upcoming healing retreat in NM

5-specialty imagining co-pays of $150 each

$473.48 for lodging (roundtrip) from Florida to Texas



Total: $13,982.24



I hope you’ll contribute.  And if you can’t, I hope you’ll find courage for your own healing journey.  

In the words of John O’Donahue:



May you be blessed with a wise and compassionate guide

Who can accompany you through the fear and grief

Until your heart has wept its way to your true self.



With every good wish, 



Kathy Tagudin