Dr Brizman, This is a wonderful prompt and one I am happy to discuss.....because I have regained so much! 
When I became symptomatic with IC my second daughter was only a year old. In addition to IC bladder pain, I also developed an autonomic heart condition called POTs where my heart rate would skyrocket for "no reason". Obviously, my quality of life quickly unraveled and my plans to return to teaching were out of the question. Essentially, all I enjoyed became a torturous reminder of the life that would have been....
After a year in treatment, I returned to teaching high school history - I truly love it- still in pain with bouts of other symptoms but stable and gaining momentum. I am finishing my second year back teaching and approaching my third anniversary in treatment. I have returned to the classroom with enthusiasm and determination to make my energy and efforts in life matter. I opened an ETSY store focusing on my life-long love of knitting and, of course, I enjoy every moment I can with my girls- taking nothing for granted. Illness crystallizes priorities; love, family, life, health. I realized quickly how truly precious life is and there really is no time for all the doubt and anger I was carrying around. 
Do I still face health challenges? Yes. Am I better? Absolutely. More importantly, that center of peace which is threatened when we become ill is returning with a newfound hope for the future. 
 

I was a dancer and athlete that is what defined me from a very young age. I pushed through much of the pain to participate in many of these activities growing up until it came to the point where I couldn't. I started graduate school with dreams and aspirations to start a wheelchair and adapted sports team for those with disabilities to incorporate my love of sports and ability to allow children and adults either born or had aquired injuries through their life to find the drive, purpose, friendship and fun through sports. As I neared graduation from my doctorate degree the simple things in life became so difficult, I was in severe pain all the time, an anxious wreak, and it literally took all my energy to just take a shower, I would wrap myself in my robe and lay in our closet, stare up at my clothes, and wonder how I would survive the day. It is amazing what chronic illness steals from you. How had I gone from this tip top shape athlete to barely surviving the day?! When I wasn't working I was sleeping. I can't say I have made a come back athletically or all my dreams have become reality, but I do have my occasional private dance party in my living room, or go for a walk with a friend willing to take a day off from running, and can even say I help couch for a wheelchair dance team for a group of young girls. To see their faces light up just warms my heart! Of course, I have dreams of being a mother as well, but in whatever way that will transpire I will be grateful. Something's will always be out of our control, but I am gaining ground and forever thankful for each and everyday as I learn new things and become a stronger more compationate person for myself first, and for family, friends, and my patients!

I am primarily a mom but before I got sick, I worked a few times a year in professional theatre as a director/choreographer or a performer. My career never took off the way I would have liked it but still, I was hired by good theaters and able to do quality, fulfilling work for the most part while still primarliy raising my kids. I have never had any other job. I have been teaching and working in Theatre since middle school- I have been very lucky. "Nice work if you can get it!"
 
This is the longest span in my entire life that I have gone without theater or dance including times of injury ( where I choreographed on crutches) and times of newborns (where I pumped milk during dress rehearsal )
 
The last show i choreographed was when I was pregnant with my 3rd child about a year before the IC started. Which means November of 2009.  
 
I am so grateful for the fact that I am also a singer and I am able to work professionally a few times a month singing at Funeral Masses, weddings and other events. This has been a wonderful gift during this time and I feel like my voice has gotten stronger and i am much more confidant about my singing. I sometimes berate myself when I am feeling down with things like, "So pathetic, all I do is sing at funerals" But the ttruth is, maybe itis not an accident. Each week, I sing psalms like "The Lord is my Shepherd.....even though I walk through the dark valley, I fear no evil" and "Be not afraid, I go before you always" Sometimes, it seems that the hymns I am singing are more for me than the family sitting in the pews. This coming from a person who had a very vague faith and still struggles with that but more and more, faith in a HIgher Power has become my most imortant coping tool. During funerals, I also have the privlege of helping families in the way I can as they grieve. It takes me out of my own suffering and gives me some perspective. Weddings are actually harder for me because I get nostalgic for an easier time in my life.
 
Last year, I started taking voice lessons again and that has been so inspiring and useful. I am expanding my repertoire and branching out more into Pop and Rock music. I am determined that I am going to make that happen somehow and I am trying  to put together a Cabaret. I have an accompanist and I just need to rent a space and get it going!
 
Just recently, I reached out to 2 Theatre friends who I haven't seen for about 2 years. I want people to know that I still exist and even though I am not back to normal, I still have a lot of creative stuff in my brain and I need to start figuring out how to use it a little bit- to get past the fear that "the stress will make me worse" Or "WHat happens if I am really flaring during a rehearsal" I feel that the fact that I even WANT to do some theater is a really good sign that I am trying to hold onto.
 
UNfortunately in the ibusiness, out of sight is out of mind so I need to get out there a little. 
 
One thing I have gaines is much more self awaremess and I have nothing to lose. I think when I get back out there, I wiill be so much more relaxed. What's a bad review after you have had IC??
 
Trying to take each day,e ach experience and hope it builds into a new future that I may not have expected.
 
Thanks for asking!

This was given to me after my son was born partially sighted. Although it's about having a child with a disability, it is also about finding a new path. I love it. 
Welcome to Holland

by

Emily Perl Kingsley.

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

It has taken me a long time to comment.  Quite possibly, because when I would start, I would drift into my sick dark humor mode.  It's a place where I can find truth, but can't quite face it. This time,  I wanted to search deep within for gut wrenching honesty without the crutch.
At age 38, 16 years ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  It would be an understatment to say that I handled it well.  The lumpectomy, chemo, radiation, were done - I was pronounced "cured". Five years later, same spot, back again.  Five years after that, even with the mastectomy, back again, same spot, more radiation and chemo. One year later, IC, which is where my path crossed with yours.  Then, three years later, mellanoma.
Each time, from the cancer perspective,I was released back into the world, still with the lousy coping skills of childhood, pronounced cured, and instructed to "live" my life. The sad part is, I no longer had a way to live amongst the internal chaos.  My physical pain levels from IC, thanks to your treatment, are minimal.  My emotional and spiritual health, falls somewhere in that category of mind/body relationship. I have learned from my inner self, and validated by your own words of wisdom, that they truly go hand in hand.  However, the gut wrenching inner work that I find myself partaking in is nearly unbearable.  I have little doubt that if it weren't for the IC, and my path crossing with yours, I would search for my salvation in the bottom of a pill bottle rather than somewhere deep within my core.  There are times when I am truly grateful that my gut tells me that this is the road that I'm meant to travel.  However, there are many times that I am truly pissed off that I'm not somewhere smoking a joint, having a margareta, and miixing it with a benzo.