Written by Andrea
Reporting live today from my hyperbaric chamber, you guys. Excuse me now? Yes, you did read that right- I am actually inside of that thing Michael Jackson (my absolute childhood idol) slept in.
Well… sort of. I can’t get into hyperbaric specifics right now because I have other things to write about- I just wanted to give you context, so when you are reading this post from your toilet, or wherever you read classy inspirational pieces like this, you can imagine me in this pressurized tube, taking in an extra dose of O2 to the brain and body. And I am going to bet that I just might be the only blogger out there writing the majority of posts from inside a mild hyperbaric oxygen chamber. Could that be my niche?!?
Potential Bio- Andrea Lynn Peruzzi is a hyperbaric oxygen lifestyle blogger based out of her mild hyperbaric chamber in Portland, Oregon. She tells tales of her life in the Poor House with her wheelchair cruisin lover, Riley Poor (hence the name of the blog, Poor House Love). #hyperbaricbloggergirl? #poorhouselovechamber? I see good things coming from this, you guys! The hyperbaric chamber never lets me down!
Truth- I be woo woo with my healthcare (albeit in a selective, scientific, educated way- always analyzing). I have my reasons for bathing in oxygen. They go back, way back to the traditional allopathic landscape of my youth. My father was a primary care physician, and since we lived in the suburbs, and it was the 90’s, I had limited exposure to anything outside of that paradigm. Not that this was a bad thing in and of itself, except for the fact that I was the kid (I am #3 of 4) in my family with all the bizarre health stuff that that kind of approach didn’t fix.
Example- Me. Onset- grade 4. Covered in crusty psoriasis plaques (like, covered– arms, legs, scalp, torso- 70% body if I had to guess). It is unclear to me whether I was a naturally thick skinned kid or if the psoriasis itself actually built me a thick shell – either way I can’t recall the skin issue having a negative psychological impact on a young me, and yet, I am unable to write about it here without a tinge of sarcasm, so there must be something there…
Unscathed by my lizard like skin, my friends and I actually spent our free class time picking psoriasis chunks from my scalp and lining them up for display along my 4th grade desk (kids are super bizarre). While I was’t particularly bothered by my leather skin, I nonetheless adhered to a strict nightly treatment regimen which, in retrospect, was completely absurd (sorry parents, I know we were trying).
Here was the routine- each night, I arduously covered my psoriasis plagued body in steroid ointments. My dad got free samples, but they were these small trail sized tubes, so I would go through one tube after the next, layering it on thick. But once I put on the pjs, my hard work would inevitably rub right off. Clever child that I was, I developed a technique to keep that ointment in place. It was quite simple, really- I mummy wrapped my entire body in saran wrap. Then, as a last step, my psoriasis thickened scalp was covered in a slathering of tar (brain damage…tbd) and once I popped on a shower cap I was ready for bed. I cringe recalling this method, in part because it sounds unenjoyable, but also because I went on in my adult life to earn my master’s in Chinese medicine and, as it turns out, from a Chinese medical point of view I followed exactly the right steps to set myself up for a lifetime battle with psoriasis. Who could’ve known, way back then?
25 years later I sit in my mild hyperbaric chamber surrounded by an arsenal other healthcare tools. The chamber came into our life originally for Ri, but it has also been a really positive thing for me and my health. And so, in my desire to introduce our health focused lifestyle, I needed to first tell you about my psoriasis as that is where my healthcare journey began.
Now, I know Ri is the one in the wheelchair, the one with the unavoidably obvious physical disability, but here is an interesting thing- at age 25, we both coincidentally (I say there are no coincidences) went through our own versions of healthcare hell. We both had to stare our mortality directly in the face. Those kind of things at such a young age leave scars that are not just surface deep. They dig into your psyche. They are a source of trauma. I suppose on some level Ri and I soften our scars through the compassion we extend to one another.
Over the course of my 25th year on earth, a health issue slowly transformed me into a 70 pound version of myself. I had a difficult time doing the simplest of things- walking the length of a driveway, as an example. So lightweight, I could feel my body beginning to separate from my soul. I recall laying on the hospital stretcher in that sort of holding room that exists before you enter an operating room, mind fixed on an image- a lotus flower, a symbol of purity, rebirth and divinity. A healing vision to help me through a difficult surgery, if you will. Eyes closed and focused on my lotus, I heard a soft voice, felt a gentle touch upon my shoulder, smelled an enticing scent. I opened my eyes and saw a man that was so handsome I questioned his very existence, thinking I might have died, gone to heaven and was lucky enough to be greeted by the apparition of my eternal mate. But as it turned out, he was actually one of the docs on the team coming to prep me for surgery. Once I snapped back into reality I noticed his name tag, and somehow even as I inquired, I knew it- his name (which has now slipped away from my memory) was the sanskrit word for lotus flower. True story.
Amen! Hallelejuah! The message was clear – I was going to be alright. And thank goodness because if I hadn’t made it, and if Ri hadn’t made it, well, I never would have walked through his front door, years later, on the very same day he made a little list describing his ideal mate. That is the brief version of another true story that I will leave you with for the time being.
Here is the list (it kind of cracks me up- Ri says it makes him sound like an a**hole).
Oh, but here is some advice- if you are like me, there will be so many moments of synchronicity throughout life. So take your time when deciding which ones you need to tattoo on your body, especially if your psoriasis is always looking for a new reason to creep back up :).
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