Unsteady

Without getting too political (proceeds to get a bit political)…

It’s no secret that I don’t like Donald Trump.

That’s putting it mildly.

In 2015, after I had my second baby, my law partner, Mike, and I met with our new banker, Tom, to start our firm. Tom is a farmer at heart, so I teased him for being a banker. As Trump began surging in the polls, I was shedding baby weight. Tom jokingly told his colleague and my dear friend, Todd, who then repeated it back to me: “Jackie’s sure lost a lot of weight. Trump must be making her nervous.” I laughed hysterically. It was well intentioned and played.

On election night in 2016, I was shocked. I had just gotten over telling our oldest, then four years old, that we were going to have “a girl, just like us,” as President. That night, I closed Stebbins Mulloy until noon the next day. Upon my arrival at work, I consoled two of our young female staffers who stood in my office doorway looking morose.

It’s in Unwillable and quite humorous if you ask me. As I’m pacing the psych ward and my brain is about ten minutes away from exploding, I managed not only to see Trump in a newspaper in the gathering area, but I also wrote in my journal, “I hate DT!” (I do. I really do.)

Lots of people actually blamed my illness on him. That makes me chuckle. It would be nice to explain AE by one of the greatest political foibles, but I’m not sure it holds water. It also scares me. By the time he won in 2016, my life was already on track for a perfect storm. That August is when I can first point to my health taking a serious turn.

Crazy. Outlandish. Farfetched or not, after his astonishing (to me) win last November, I felt existential dread. Not only for what I worry about him doing to the world, but a teeny nagging fear that I’m going to get AE again.

And it’s not just me. I finally said to Sean, a little joking, but enough serious, “You know I got sick after he won last time.” Sean quietly replied, “I know, I thought of that, too.”

I don’t blame my health problems on Trump (although I’d love to), but in 2024, just like in 2023, and 2022, and… my health has been a real problem. I’ve had to grind out a lot of medical appointments, and by December 2024, I was insistent that I could take no more.

And just after I ranted in counseling about, “I’m done! I’m over it! No! More!” my mammogram came back abnormal. About five seconds before Christmas. I had “one more test,” twice, and a biopsy hanging over my head for a month. (I got the good news in late January - all clear!)

Twenty-two days into the new year, and I had already met my deductible. Only days into March, an additional CT scan, surgical procedure, and one more thing to cope with. It’s wearing, but unfortunately, no longer novel to me. And if the past is the future’s predictor, it’ll continue like this.

A few days before New Year’s, I allowed myself a moment to ponder my 2025 word of the year. The first thought quickly pulsed through my mind: I need to make it through the next four years. The next sentiment was (as I was in the thick of the breast cancer scare): I cannot let my health drag me down all the time.

Those two ideations and the word immediately appeared: Steady. I knew I nailed it.

In 2025, I must make a concerted effort to remain steady. Uncertainty abounds here in my four Bismarck walls and around the globe. But if I’ve learned anything since AE made its debut for me in 2018, it’s that my life is one giant serenity prayer.

What can I change? What do I control?

What do I have to hold my nose and accept?

God grant me the serenity. I’m sick of my medical state.

Failing joints, chronic pain, autoimmune disorders. I’m overwhelmed by red flags on test results, abnormalities, another specialty, a new doctor just wondering if I have... I struggle with how many more just one more thing-s I have left in me.

But I can’t give up or walk away. My serious and multi-layered health is never going to disappear. I cannot alter that, rather I must accept it. Just like I’ve allowed that it will always hurt to feel like I got hurled out of my professional life. Or that it seems eternally difficult to explain my condition. Steadiness begets acceptance. And accepting hard things helps steady me.

God grant me the serenity. I’m beyond over Donald Trump.

But I cannot change Trump and his ilk. I can’t singlehandedly alter the face of Democratic politics at home and in the country. I cannot stop the give-you-whiplash chaos or cruelty that comes out of his mouth, nor can I halt his (brazenly named) Truths. And I honestly, can’t for the life of me, EVER understand supporting him.

But I can and will decide when to ignore or resist him. And I will continue to choose wisely any political battles I undertake, because my health doesn’t allow for much. I’ll also work to find concessions and common ground with others where I can.

It was Emerson who said, “Nothing can bring you peace but yourself.” Staying steady means focusing on my house.

Just Keep Swimming means finding your steady and your way in the uncertainty. And for me, finding that rhythm is tried and true through music, movement, fresh air, friendship, more movement that my broken body can keep up with, being well informed and taking info breaks, Elton, firm boundaries with my time and commitments, reading tons of books, cherishing my family, pursuing my AE advocacy, learning new things, and a lot of sleep. (And some Diet Coke, wine, and peachie candy that Sean says is radioactive.)

It also means never giving up and never losing faith in the promise of Better Days Ahead.

My health and Trump be damned. I must and will. Stay steady.

Cheers to 2025. And get your resilience-suit on, rough waves abound.

jackie

PS The title of this comes from my dear friend, former Senator Byron Dorgan. When he called me after I got sick, I told him that I felt almost drunk and unsteady, day and night. He mentioned this song and said it was one of his favorites. I always think of him when I listen to it.

PPS Dear God, I wrote this blog in January, but just got to editing and publishing it. Life’s wild.

PPPS Please don’t be mad at me for the subject matter.

“If you love me, don't let go (hold)

Whoa, if you love me, don't let go (hold)

“Hold, hold on, hold onto me

‘Cause I'm a little unsteady

A little unsteady

Hold, hold on, hold onto me

‘Cause I'm a little unsteady

A little unsteady” ~ Unsteady by X Ambassadors

__________

/ / The JM Stebbins blog is an autoimmune encephalitis blog from former lawyer and autoimmune encephalitis survivor, Jackie M. Stebbins.

Jackie M. Stebbins is also the author of Unwillable: A Journey to Reclaim my Brain, a book about autoimmune encephalitis, resilience, hope, and survival. / /