Invisible Diseases... Invisible Warriors...

So many people have no clue about just how hard you have to work on simply being alive, when illness pulls you down every single second of your entire life.

The things that most people take for granted... Walking, bathing, breathing, reading, speaking and spending time with friends --all without effort. When you are seriously chronically ill, these things all come with an enormous sacrifice. I have been ill for more than half of my life, with a disease that has no cure --and no treatment. I don't care anymore if someone who has never been seriously ill thinks that I "talk too much" about my illness. I don't care. What I do care about is helping those people who fight everyday so thanklessly. God, I wish that people could know how amazing all of my Invisible Diseases friends and peers are!

That is why this disease is called "invisible". I have seen such incredible warriors. INCREDIBLE warriors, fighting the greatest battle of their lives, for their lives. All without recognition. Just for the sake of living their truth, and believing that they deserve to have as much health and happiness as anyone else. You do, my beautiful friends! Keep marching on my beautiful survivors. I will be right beside you to the finish line! .. Please, if ever I falter, and begin to fall, help me to walk again. When I have the strength, I will help you in return. ...And to everyone else who has the immeasurable blessing of health, please reach out to those who are ill, and let them know that you are their advocate. You can sincerely save a life, simply by reaching out your hand.

Sending love to you all...

Dr Franky Dolan

Wall Sculpture ~ Like a Face in a Looking Glass

 

The Wall Sculptures that I create still amaze me. It is a very spiritual and fluid process. I really do meditate on it first, and wait for visuals to come to me. Then I allow something to come through my hands, and my spirit, as I create...

Fae Factory Wall Sculptures are fine art tokens of protection. Using countless layers of eco-friendly clay, canvas, paints and finishes; these works carry the energy of safety and protection to every home that houses them. Like a touchable multi-dimensional window from another etherial world, you can hang one on your wall, and feel the impact every time that you walk by. See the details, note the finger strokes and rhythms in the sculpted piece. Each is a treasured one of a kind work of art. 

His strong and sweet face peaks through to us, as he wishes nothing but good fortune for all who gaze into him. Totally sculpted by freehand, this beautiful face took several months of layering, sculpting, sanding and painting to complete. The face is aesthetically framed with a tattered ornate design, reminiscent of ancient times past. ...This Wall Sculpture measures 20" x 16" on a strong wood-frame wrapped canvas. Such a sight, for me to see what comes thorough me like this. 

All of the art that I create helps to raise awareness about Invisible Diseases, in some capacity. These Wall Sculptures are representations of the "invisibles" coming forward to fight for Invisible Diseases. They are the etherial, the fairies, the angels and the mythical. Like psychic physical imprints from one world to another, these beings are standing up for the honor of those who heroically survive with unsung suffering. ~

Sending Love,

Dr Franky Dolan 

Debating a Ride in a Wheelchair?

 {From the Dr Dolan Reports archives}

I really thought that this needed to be said once more. So many people deal with this issue, and I thought that I would just be pure and honest about my own troubles and triumphs over my first ride in the wheelchair...

Thousands of people with Invisible Diseases debate over the use of a wheelchair, and what that ‘means’ for them socially and emotionally. We have received many letters from people, asking for advice on whether or not to get a wheelchair. They are often sheepish or even scared about the potential repercussions, and want to connect with others who have faced the same issue.

Dr Dolan Reports:

Ahhh, the wheelchair. I can tell you that you are not alone, my friends. I once was a professional performer and traveled the world. Long ago, I knew what the hot lights of the stage felt like on my face. I once felt the silent breath and the eager spirits of thousands of people sitting in front of me; waiting to be entertained, just before I sang my first note or danced my first step. I used to use my body to tell stories, through physical comedy and interpretive dance. I worked so hard that I danced with shin splints and I went seven days per week this way. I loved it more than anything. I was a performer and I would give it up for nothing. ...That is, until I became ill.

I now am completely housebound. I was told by far too many under educated doctors that all I needed to do was embrace the idea of physical movement and exercise. My "exercise" is now in the form of standing in the shower on my own, and walking around my house as I am able to. My “workout” happens when I create art. Though My arms often shake with fatigue and my forehead sweats when I paint or sculpt for too long.  Though I absolutely love creating art, it  is “exercise” for my body, and that is as far as I can physically push now. 

Still, I need to go to doctor appointments, and when I do, there are often long halls and short lines to wait in. I simply cannot do this on my own two legs. Like nearly broken twigs, my legs clench and crumble in burning pain and my feet fill with hot heavy blood. My head becomes even more faint than usual and I often have to sit or even lay down in line. Obviously this is not only embarrassing, it is impractical. 

A very kind Physical Therapist suggested that I get a wheelchair. She said that she was surprised that I hadn’t had one already. I was nervous about how I might be treated out in the world, if I was in a wheelchair. I worked so hard to hold onto the tiny few strands of my former healthy life. I also feared that a wheelchair might act as a personal symbol of my illness getting even worse. Have you ever gained weight, and tried desperately to fit into your smaller sized clothing, just so you could believe that you hadn’t gained thaaat much weight? It was sort of like that, only much more serious in my mind. It was a very depressing and scary feeling to face. I struggled over it for a while. But then I took a deep breath, faced my fears with a good dose of bravery, and made my decision. 

Now, I have a wheelchair for when I do actually leave the house. If I need to physically push myself, it is much safer to do it at home, where I can sit or lay immediately, no matter what I am doing. When I am out of the house and being wheeled around in the wheelchair, I am able to communicate better and I can ‘last’ longer on my outings. That is definitely worth facing any uncomfortable insecurities of being looked at in a funny way. Plus, when I am in a wheelchair, most people usually don’t treat me any differently than when I am out of a wheelchair. In fact, if anything, a wheelchair makes the illness less “invisible” in a very helpful and educational way! People begin to understand the severity of the illness, and they tend to respect you more, even if they do not fully understand it.  

On the rare occasions of leaving my house, I am often too weak to look up and lift my head for too long. When I can though, I make eye contact and smile at everybody. Usually, people who do not use wheelchairs don't even think about it as much as those who do use wheelchairs. I am not ashamed at all. After all, it was nothing that I did to put myself there. This illness happened to me. ...To all of us! 

Sitting in a wheelchair is one way of defying the illness, and telling the world that we are not going to take this fatigue lying down! Ironically, I once thought that a wheelchair might take even more of my life away from me. On the contrary, it gave me a little piece of it back.

Do not be ashamed for being a survivor. You are a beautiful and strong example of a person who does not give up! A wheelchair, like a crutch, or a shoulder to lean on, is not a sign of weakness; it is a sign of a person willing to move forward, no matter what challenges they carry. 

Sending Love...

Dr Franky Dolan