Kendall Carter: In the Pink

In the pink… an expression which describes the look of good health. But what if your health isn’t good? Can you still look gorgeous? My friend Kendall looks just like an exquisite porcelain lady doll. She is redefining what it means to be ‘in the pink’! She is one of the sickest people I know yet she blows my mind every time she posts a photo. So stunning! I am so delighted that she agreed to write a guest post for the ‘Meet my Peeps’ series, because I think her voice is so important.  But it hasn’t been easy, since I asked her if she’d like to do a piece, she’s been in and out of hospital at least four times.

Kendall, I so appreciate the efforts it took to write this piece for my blog.
Thank you so much! x

Kendall has a complex medical picture. She is diagnosed with progressive Autoimmune Pandysautonomia. It causes POTS, gastroparesis, subacute urinary retention, breathing issues, CIPO, swallowing difficulties, temp regulation issues, small fibre neuropathy, pupillary dysfunction, anhidrosis, IST, supine hypotension, orthostatic hypotension, syncope and the other usual autonomic dysfunctions typical of Dysautonomias. She also has Median Arcuate Ligament Syndrome (MALS), Hashimoto’s disease, demyelination disease, hypothyroidism, endometriosis, adenomyosis, chronic rhinosinusitis, chronic neutropenia, PCOS, pernicious anaemia and issues related to the malnutrition from gastroparesis.

And she is beautiful.  Read on, all about her journey into better self esteem and how she expresses her individuality through beauty, fashion and social media…

kendall6

12019814_10153730204030815_3544274142207572205_n

Yes, let’s start this post bragging about what an inspiration I am and.. wait, what!? When did I suddenly become an inspiration? Beautiful? Confident? Calm? What’s all this about? Did someone start paying these people off?

11249767_10153730210665815_2973849582368573285_n

Let’s rewind. My name is Kendall. I have a chronic illness. It sucks. I spend a lot of time in hospital and an obscene amount of time in bed. But I also like to play dress up, usually just to go to a doctor, hospital appointment or even just if I’m staying at home, seeing no one apart from my significant other for a couple of hours when he gets home from work. At first I never questioned why, I suppose it was because my appearance was one of the only things I still had control over. I’m no great beauty and I’d never been the type to dress up, let alone slather on a full face of makeup and prance (well, roll) around in pretty dresses just because it made me feel good about myself. I was the jeans and t-shirt girl. The girl people would laugh at if they saw me in a dress. I actually recall quite vividly a friend stopping me in the street one day. She had a good laugh that I, for some unknown reason, had chosen to wear a dress that day! I didn’t wear a dress again for years. The quintessential tomboy, the shy little wallflower that wanted to perfectly blend into her surroundings… that was me back when I was healthy.

If my past self could look at my current self, health issues aside, I imagine she’d screw up her nose, call me too girly and make fun of me. PINK hair? Pastel at that! A floofy cat dress, complete with a bow tie? And what’s with all this damn lace everywhere? It’s almost as if I’ve done a 180 in a couple of years. It all started when a group of wonderful friends from a support group got together to organise a hairdresser to come to my house. She dyed my hair a beautiful pastel pink that I had been considering for quite some time. I had just gotten an NG tube and was curious about this pretty pastel hair trend that was going around. In the back of my mind I wondered if I could be the girl with the pink hair, instead of the girl with the feeding tube hanging off her face. It worked, and it was probably the best thing that ever happened to my self-esteem. You may be able to tell from my mentions of wanting to be a wallflower but I was, and still am to an extent, a very timid girl. Standing out was not my thing. I’d never dare admit to wanting to wear those pretty, glittery shoes, that beautiful floral dress with lace inserts or that adorable clip on hair bow back then. They were for other people, no matter how much I lusted after them.

Show the world you're still you, because(1)

I believe that my chronic illness, starting with being brave enough to go ahead with the pink hair, opened up many doors for me in regards to my self-image and self-confidence. I’d lost so much. I felt there was nothing I could possibly gain after the trauma of losing my health, my job; my whole life, as I used to know it. Sounds overly dramatic but that’s what it was. A sudden onset for me. All my losses happened, quite literally, overnight. But out of this mess, I gained confidence. I finally gained the tools I needed to not care so very deeply about what people thought of me and how I appeared to the world because after what I’d been through, any opinions on something as superficial as my appearance could hardly mean much at all. Really, what’s someone asking if my hair colour was a dare? Not much compared to coding yet surviving on an operating table in the middle of a life-saving operation. At 30. Yeah, it’s totally incomparable.

With my slow but steadily rising new found confidence I started shyly posting selfies of myself when I was a bit dressed up. Selfies were not something I’d usually do! I’d always worry too much about people thinking I was narcissistic, or that I wasn’t pretty enough, and all those things that people with low self-esteem think. My confidence took off even more as I received a few compliments here and there and started connecting with the chronic illness community via social media through images. Images of the good times and the bad. The dreadful unwashed hospital selfies, the tubes, the lines, the scars …but also the nicer times, of dressing up, of makeup, of pretty hair and cute collectibles. I’d become this girl with the pastel pink hair, fancy dresses.. and a NG tube on my face. Somewhere in there, I finally found the confidence to be me even with a feeding tube prominently displayed! Without knowing it, seeming to also inspire some people along the way. No one just considers themselves inspiring and rarely sets out for that to be their goal. It just.. happened. In finding and helping myself, I’ve somehow helped other people and even if that’s only a couple of people in a small way, it’s certainly more than what I was doing before.

kendall3

There are several movements with a focus on looking good or glamourous, even though you feel like you’re falling apart, that have taken off on social media. Karolyn Gehrig’s #HospitalGlam  (and you can find her on Instagram @karolynprg) is the most widely known. Some other friends or followers have created their own hashtags or names for modelling while on bed rest, such as #bedrestmodelling. When not feeling too great, people are creating poignant portraits that are beautiful in many different ways. I definitely recommend checking out some of these hashtags if you own an Instagram account.
(Ed: and you can find Kendall’s instagram account here: @Kendelfe it’s a confection of pink!)

Show the world you're still you, because

I personally just like to have fun with my style and there aren’t too many times where I’ll refuse to waste the extra energy into putting on the best damn dress I own, spending probably a little too much time on my makeup and stumbling into my doctor’s office or hospital appointment looking like I was going out somewhere special. Some people might say that their ‘spoonsmight be spent better elsewhere and I can’t argue with that. Others may say that their doctor may not believe that they’re ill if they don’t look sick but my argument is that if you have a good doctor or specialist, they’ll know. My doctors know me well enough to know that if I’ve no makeup on then I’m not doing too good at all. One claims I have an “Emergency Department face” when I walk in and will know straight away when things aren’t looking too good for me, even if I am dressed up to the nines. I do believe that attention to presentation can play an important part when it comes to others seeing how to feel about yourself as a person, and in showing that you’re still you and (as @minadraculada said in one of the opening quotes to this article) that it’s not over bitches, that you’re still you, still have control and that you’re still standing.

In closing, I suppose I wanted to express how you can still make gains even when you’re quite severely ill, whether that be through your appearance and fashion, a new hobby, new found friends or something else. I also wanted to show that just because we feel ill doesn’t mean we need to act or look a certain way, the way society often portrays the disabled and/or ill. Show the world you’re still you, because you’re still beautiful even if your body might be a bit broken. My only regret through all this is that I didn’t find the confidence in my appearance that I have now back when I was healthy but ironically, if I had remained healthy, I probably wouldn’t have.

Thank you for reading, and thank you to the fabulous and always lovely Rach for posting my piece!

Claire Gawne: The About Face

Claire Gawne is a Melbournite and fellow Dysautonomia sufferer. Active online in various volunteer roles as well as her biggest role, promoter and cat-mum; Claire is a positive, upbeat, funny girl.  She wrote this piece for the Meet my Peeps series, all about the benefits of pet ownership.
Meet my friend Claire and her friend, the Gremlin….

______________________________________________________________


theaboutface

My housemates stand in the door to my room. The don’t even have to speak for me to know what they’re going to say. The old arguments tumble out, and my wearied responses are rattled off. The debate over whether or not to get a cat has raged for months, the pro team enthusiastic and numerous, the anti team steadfast but alone. They showed me pictures of adorable cats (as if I didn’t already see enough on the internet anyway!) and waxed lyrical about kitten toes and purry snuggles, while I extolled the virtues of fur free home and worried about the effect a ball of fur would have on my asthma.

I could sympathise with my housemates’ position. I was a cat person who had suffered growing up in dog person household. I loved how cute and snuggly they were. I looked at pictures of other peoples’ cats on the internet, but I was uneasy about owning one. I struggled enough to take care of myself, how could I take care of another living creature? And what if all that delightfully soft fur was too much for my embattled lungs to handle? What if the cat had to be returned?

a picture of Gremlin the cat trying to catch bubbles, with quote text "I struggled enough to take care of myself, how could I take care of another living creature?" -Claire Barnier

Still, I found myself more and more fixated on the idea of a cat. I had become obsessed with a particular breed – the Exotic Shorthair. Combining the adorable squished face of a Persian with the practical short fur of a British Shorthair, it looked like a teddy bear. An adorable, living teddy bear that would provide hugs on tap.

In a complete about face, it was me that ended up buying the cat. His name is Gremlin, and he’s a ginger and white male Exotic Shorthair. He is undoubtedly the best cat ever. I was instantly in love. My ability to breathe be damned, he was staying!

Claire & Gremlin(1)

Pets in general, and cats in particular, have been shown to have huge health benefits for their owners. Improved cardiovascular health, lower rates of depression, and one I was particularly hoping to capitalise on – fewer visits to the doctor.  While I didn’t expect my new furry companion to cure me, it became abundantly clear the benefits of having a pet were varied and abundant for people with chronic illnesses.

Despite having four housemates, I often found myself home alone, or awake at absurd hours of the night; having Gremlin meant that I always had someone to talk to. I was also surprised how much I relished having someone to think about and care about beyond myself. Gremlin was a welcome distraction from my own problems. It gave me a sense of purpose and made me feel needed in a way I hadn’t for a long time, yet without any intolerable expectations on my time and health.

Gremlin was also an amazing listener. I would come home from an appointment to find him dozing in the exact same spot I had left him in two hours ago, and he would purr away while I told him about my uselessly vague test results, or the scary potential side effects of a new medication. And then at night, when the house was quiet and the last tram rumbled by, he would curl up against my legs, all snores and purrs and soft fur, and I’d sleep better with the weight of him against me.

More peer pressure, this time from a close friend, led to me starting an Instagram account for Gremlin (maybe in the hopes that I wouldn’t flood my friends Facebook newsfeed with picture of his antics!?) For those of you unfamiliar with Instagram, it’s a social media platform focused on sharing photos. I thought that at most I might garner 200 or so followers (a respectable amount for your average user) upon whom I would foist endless photos of my cat. My expectations were low, which might explain why I was so overwhelmed by the incredible experience that followed. Thorough judicious use of hashtags (the best and most direct way to engage with IG), and an investment of way more of my time than I will ever admit, I quickly amassed followers.

Two years later and I have just hit the 15, 000 mark. More incredible than that is the wonderful, genuine friendships that I have made. It’s an amazing community of people, bonded through our mutual love of cats. Everyday I get to laugh at the absurdity and charm of cats, imbued with their own personalities by their humans. I’ve seen people help each other, offering advice on pet care, digging deep to raise funds for medical treatment, and offering love and support at the devastating loss of beloved pets. It’s a weird and wonderful world, where yesterday I was admiring the bowtie collection of one account, while discussing starting a cat commune with several others.
You can find Gremlin on instagram here.

The instagram cat community has grown, spread and evolved since I joined. I have become Facebook friends with the people behind several of my favourite accounts, and got to know them as humans in real life, too. I have seen art projects and pay-it-forward initiatives flourish. This year the first cat convention (CatCon) will be held in LA, and I’ve seen people excitedly planning meet ups of both humans and cats!

For me it has been an incredible experience that has allowed me an identity and a focus beyond my illness. Friends of friends know me as ‘Gremlin’s mum’, and people gush with excitement about meeting him. Tonight before bed, I’ll swallow a handful of pills, and then I curl up and scroll through hundreds of pictures of cats, each one a friendly, familiar face. I’ll look down the bed at the friendliest and most familiar face of all, curled up against my leg, snoring louder than should be possible for something so small.

And I’ll be grateful for everything he has given me.

______________________________________________________________

Do you have chronic illness and a pet?
Tell us about how your pet helps you…