Retire Early Lifestyle
Retirement; like your parents, but way cooler

In 1991 Billy and Akaisha Kaderli retired at the age of 38. Now, into their 4th decade of this financially independent lifestyle, they invite you to take advantage of their wisdom and experience.

Things Keep Happening

I have no control, and a deep insight into my personality that I never wanted to have -

My Intimate Journey with Cancer Part 14

Billy and Akaisha Kaderli

Finishing up with San Javier Hospital, getting back home to Chapala

The bladder stent and spinal ablation were performed at San Javier Hospital in Guadalajara, the number 1 hospital in the western part of the country of Mexico.  

After paying the remainder of our bill at the clerk's counter, I was taken in a wheelchair to a waiting taxi to take bring me back to our home in the Lakeside town of Chapala.

Traffic was surprisingly decent until we got just right outside our town, only to learn that demonstrators were blocking all of the main roads into Chapala. Our friends in Chapala alerted us to this so Billy, who knows this town better than most, immediately looked into alternative routes as we approached and were diverted. To remedy this problem, cars, delivery trucks, taxis and various other vehicles took a side turn up into the mountains to avoid further congestion. The problem was that no one was moving and there was some gesticulating and animated conversation as cars shimmied onto sidewalks and the shoulder of this cobblestone road.

Feeling helpless, I'm lying on my back staring up at the ceiling and the taxi driver is not taking any action. Billy cannot abide the inertia so with a sigh, he gets out of the car to make something happen. Moments later he comes back shaking his head and the traffic line begins to move.

We arrive at the back entrance of our apartment complex, and four of our fabulous neighbors are there to welcome me home and help me back up the stairs.

Billy and I are both humbled and tired.

A Vaso-what?

February 6th, I woke up at home from my own bed and went to the kitchen to try to get a few things done in preparation for breakfast.

In the mornings of previous months, I had been having tendencies to vomit and to get quite lightheaded where I simply pass out.

I didn’t know what was going on…

I was at the kitchen sink with Billy literally just a hair away from my arm. I had that light-headed feeling again, but was not quick enough to communicate it. The next thing I know, my legs crumpled underneath me (I have no memory of this) and my head was in the kitchen trash can.

I’m on the floor, Billy is looking side to side (she was just there a moment ago) and my head is surrounded by coffee grounds and orange peels. It was a miracle that I didn’t crack my head open on the counter in the fall, as the area is a bit cramped.

Billy says “Don’t move” – as if I still had that fluidity to do so – “I’m calling Ron” (our neighbor. It’s 6am in the morning and he is just one door away.) We have called on Ron many times, and this gentle 6-foot 4-inch strong male comes to our aid each occasion.

Both of these robust men are helplessly looking at me on the floor in a contorted position. “How are we going to get her up?” I’m sure they were thinking.

Blood came rushing back to my brain and I was able to think again. “Where am I? What am I doing on the floor and why is my head in the trash can?”

We got me back to the bed and Billy and I discussed this “fainting spell thing” I had been having.

An American nurse friend of ours (30+ years of ER experience) who has been helping us during this demanding time informed us that I was probably having a Vasovagal Response.

It is the most frequent cause of fainting overall, and happens when your body overreacts to a trigger via the vagus nerve, causing a sudden drop in heart rate and blood pressure. This reduces blood flow to the brain temporarily, leading to lightheadedness, nausea, sweating, or full loss of consciousness.

Good grief. I need something else to worry about.

Well now that I know what it is, and possibly what might be causing it, I have changed my morning routine to reflect the safety I need. I stay close to the bed, make sure I’m hydrated, don’t move too fast, and as I have about 20-30 seconds before the actual fainting occurs, I can get myself someplace where I am less vulnerable.

So far, so good. No more fainting or puking spells since I installed my new habit.

Our beloved Lake Chapala

A deep insight into my personality that I never wanted to have

As if the long drive through traffic in Guadalajara to Chapala and with the road blockages, the surgeries, the mistake on the Peso conversion, the vasovagal-response-head-in-the-trashcan event weren’t enough, I wake up on February 6th with a virulent flu that I contracted by exposure to something in the hospital. 

104-degree temperature, sweating, coughing and phlegm, I can’t breathe well, with body aches and a general malaise that takes over. It very closely reminded me of Covid (is that still around?)

My frazzled and bone-weary husband has had enough.

He goes into the bathroom and shouts “Every Fah-reaking day it’s something!!! I can’t do this anymore! I’m done! There is nothing left! I’m broken!”

There it is.

Completely exposed.

My naked need.

After the storm passed

Billy put a cold cloth on my face, gave me a couple of aspirins to break the fever and called our local doc to come to the house when he could.

The apartment was quiet, I knew exactly how he felt and I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t blame him.

At one point, I got up and gingerly leaned against our bed, weeping softly.

“Billy,” I said. “I know I used to do ‘all these things’ – keep the house together, make sure there was food in the refrigerator, clean up the messes, get the laundry taken care of… but I can’t do this anymore.

“There is nothing I can do to change the situation or to fix it. I know it’s hard on you, and my life has changed also. I’m dealing with me and that’s not easy either.

“Wouldn’t it be better/less difficult/less trouble if you just put me somewhere?

“It’s not what I would prefer, but I understand.”

Billy’s eyes went wide open and he responded immediately.

“NO.

“You are not going anywhere. I want you here with me. You are not dying in a hospital or a home. We decided on this plan years ago and we’ll figure this out.

“I’m sorry.”

I have to say that I was deeply relieved at his willingness to recommit to our plan to be together “until the beautiful end.” 

You see, I can work on my attitude, be cooperative and fun, I have full use of my eyes, hands, mind, and I can still be present and useful. The thing is,… at this moment, my basic needs are great and I must have help. I even need someone to tie my shoes!

It’s no place I thought I would be, and it was supposed to be the other way around. I am more comfortable taking care of others than I am in receiving.  

This is the point in time when we hired our morning helper, six days a week.   

There you have it again – another lesson in Life.

You don’t always get what you want, but you get what you need.

My next emotional assimilation is learning to be ok with knowing that I must rely on others for help.

For more information, pricing and perspectives on my Stage Three Breast Cancer journey, click here

Retire Early Lifestyle appeals to a different kind of person – the person who prizes their independence, values their time, and who doesn’t want to mindlessly follow the crowd.

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