Delilah Dior Dominica
A woman's journey exploring her passion for Faith, fashion and travel.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Love you with all my heart and s-o-l-e

What is this, you say? That a blog lover and grammar/literary lover has misspelled a simple word? In her title, no less? 

Don't fret, I have a point.

My husband is the very greatest. I have enormous feet. You have heard them here before, but how do these tie together?

For the Bye-Week, my bubs and I went to NYC. What is NYC without a stroll in Central Park? And what is a stroll in NYC in the fall without a great pair of boots? (Is it all coming together yet?)

I tend to pack very impractically. Being the stylist I am, I always think I have done an incredible job laying out the weeks clothing, only to find seventeen shirts, sixty pairs of underwear, shoes for opposing seasons and a skirt or something. I never get better. For this particular trip, I got a great pair of boots. They had the bones for something wonderful and I was sure they would accompany my feet in countless adventures. Out of pure excitement, I wore them to my hair appointment the day before our trip.

Can I please tell you, I got blisters just from crossing my legs in them. 

They were too small- a very familiar and accepted dilemma for my feet, as I often put them through torture just to compliment my outfit, but I had a plan and refused to sway from it. The shoes would be worn to New York and that was that.

...The only problem with "that" were the blisters on my feet from the previous day. Too small shoes+blisters= a pain I'm guessing is somewhere between slamming your hand in a car door and child birth.

My husband on the other hand almost always wears sneakers. Cozy, comfy, orthodics in tow...he never puts style over comfort. Ever.  Luckily, he is only two sizes larger than me.

The story should be clear now, but just to type it out for the heck of it, my love switched shoes with me for the remaining two hours in central park. 

You read it correctly. I ended up wearing sneakers that made my feet cry tears of joy, "what is this bliss we feel?! Extra room in the toe, and on the sides?!? What have we done to deserve this??" ...and his feet cried tears of confusion. "what is this torture we feel? No room in the toe, or on the sides? What did we do do deserve this?"

I call it love. With all his heart and soul.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

On the road to Health&Sharing My Journey

A whole lot has happened since the last post, and joyful praise have been raised up from this spirit of mine for the past few days non-stop. Why? Well, because our God is so good. Also, because I have great news. A warning, this will be long, but is a way to answer everyone at once.

First off: No, I am not pregnant.

For the past few years I have been plagued with stomach and health problems. I have always had a sensitive stomach (I blame my incredible mother...) but 2008-2011 have presented a brand new set of problems that I knew was not just sensitivity. Intense nausea, powerful migraines and lack of appetite have danced across my days unannounced for three years. People wrote it off as me being stressed, under pressure, and even anorexic. (Please, take one look at me...then re-think the anorexia assumption.) I, however, know my body. I absolutely knew something was wrong. On my first date with my husband, actually, I was just finishing a detox prescribed by a nutritionist to get to the bottom of this (we never did.) So OJ has been with me through all of this- the good, bad, and very ugly. While I was sure this was just the way I am, the pre-med major portion of my husband was determined to figure it out.

I can never be confident what sets off the stomach pains, but when it comes it is there to stay. Discomfort  and a filled-to-the-brim feeling last for hours, even if I had only taken two bites of my meal. If I was going to a restaurant to meet people, I had to be conscious of how long the ride home was incase I felt sick.  The migraines were new, but I recently spent a very scary night in the hospital because I was sure the migraine couldn't be "just" a migraine. Of course, I was given an IV and sent home with a lollipop. I have seen a total of six doctors for this issue, had a CT scan of my abdomen, a cat-scan of my brain, an ultra sound, given up dairy, given up flour, and anything else you can name only to hear doctor after doctor say "Congratulations! Nothing is wrong, you look perfectly normal."

Normal is the worst.

All the recent traveling and new developments of this stomach issue had my husband and I on our knees praising God that Jesus Christ died on the cross so that we would not be living in illness, and praying for answers and the right doctor to lead us to health. That doctor came in the form of Doctor Mackie on October 13. Talking to her about each and every symptom, I noticed that this was the first time a doctor was attentively listening, jotting down every spark that came to her head. She had my blood tested, and sent me to get 70 shots to figure out what my body was rejecting. Instantly, a slew of trees, grasses and plant samples turned into large mosquito bites on my back. By the end of the 30 minute test, peanuts, walnuts, soy and corn had jumped up as well.

(please excuse the anti-itch cream.)

She said "we won't know for sure until your blood-work gets back exactly what your body is rejecting, but until then, steer clear of all those things."I thought, no problem! I wont eat peanut butter and jelly or corn on the cob. Got it.

On the plane ride to SF the following day, I was ready to devour a Jimmy Johns turkey sandwich. One hour into the flight I ate a bag of Sun Chips and began to unwrap my sandwich when an all too familiar pain took over my body. I felt as if someone was sitting on my chest and I couldn't catch my breath, and that I would be throwing up all over the poor girl in 12 E. After three hours of fear, I re-traced my food steps as I was taught. Sure enough, the first thing I saw on the Sun Chip bag was corn-oil.

My doctor called the next day with my blood work results, and said she had some "interesting news." This is never good. She told me that the bacteria H- Pylori is in my blood. (Don't worry, didn't ring a bell for me either.) It is the bacteria that causes stomach cancer and stomach ulcers. The symptoms it presents include:
Constant Nausea
Loss of Appetite
Weight Loss
Those three things are practically my best friends lately! I start taking antibiotics for this bacteria tomorrow and am praising God that it will be fully removed from me. Please join me for that. She then said that the three things that came up as items my body would reject were peanuts, pecans, and corn. It still hasn't hit me that these things are out of my life for good, because I am truly overjoyed. That may sound confusing, but after all these years of questions and problems, having a doctor call me with news was overwhelmingly exciting. Mind you, I have had at least 8 blood tests in the past year, and no one found a single thing.

I instantly began looking up more information on corn allergies to find that there are whole blogs and websites dedicated to this allergy. I almost teared up reading that people went through years of migraines, nausea, IBS and so on until they discovered the allergy. It made me feel like I wasn't in this by myself. The joy quickly left when I discovered that the list of "What We Can Eat" was fifty times shorter than the "What to Avoid" list. Also, when I read this article explaining how corn is in everything (which explains the constant and un-pin-point-able nature of my symptoms) :

All in all, this is a brand new journey. I am very thankful to all my friends and loved ones who have been praying for me and am so grateful to see first hand God's love for us and answered prayer. I will keep the updates coming! Off to do some more learning...

Tuesday, October 4, 2011


Out of all the strands of DNA that make me who I am, I do not have a single molecule of ‘cool.’  Not one. I don't mean trendy with good hair and impeccable fashion sense; no, that is not the kind of 'cool' I am talking about. I mean I do not have not a single ounce of the 'chill' cool in me.

I was never the cool-chick girlfriend and I am not the cool-chick wife. I'm not the girl doing shots with her husband or whipping out the worm (is that cool?) If things do not go as planned, you won't find me sitting back with the "everything will be fine, life throws some curve balls" mentality. I cry. Although I have always craved to wake up as the easy going-version of myself (she has to be in there somewhere..) I close my eyes and picture doing things that that entail and I just cringe. I have accepted it, I am a little lame.
I am a master of drastic- and incorrect assumptions. I am constantly convinced everyone has a gun strapped to their thigh, and a knife in their shoe…I am sure that every shift of turbulence will lead to my demise, I take just about every comment personally, and have a very Old-Testament view of forgiveness. (Despite the daily grace and mercy I ask the Lord to please show ME.) I am sensitive, emotional, a little jealous... shall I go on? None of those scream, “PLEASE, pick me!!” 

But my husband picks me. And my family pics me, (I tell myself it's not just because they have to,) and my friends pick me, and my Lord and Savior picks me every single moment of every single day. He thinks I'm pretty fantastic, but that doesn't mean He doesn't want me to become better by the moment. I am constantly striving to become the best 'me' yet. Jill 3.0, if you will. Yet as I attempt to make the strides, I notice what constantly keeps me back: Just-IF-ication. 

I think we justify why we are the way we are far too much instead of just moving forward. In order to get better, we absolutely must first accept who- and where- we are. I would love to be uber confident and non-judgemental and easy going. I am, however, absolutely not one of those things. 


 I will be, but I am not. And as long as I try to convince myself that I am confident-grace giving-fun chick, I will stay sensitive insecure-lame-chick. I will accept who I am because I am called to, and I will become better because I am destined to. As for right now, lame-chick is just fine.

22 You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; 23 to be made new in the attitude of your minds; 24 and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

Ephesians 2:22-24