Daddy Is Worn Out (Blog #335)

Okay. Let’s get real. It’s five in the morning. I just got home. Daddy is worn out. This is going to be short. Don’t expect compound sentences.

Today was my last day house sitting for my friends. In the midst of my getting their home back in order, my mom called. She said Dad has been having trouble this week, that he’s been short of breath. So on his doctor’s recommendation, they were taking him to the emergency room. So this has been the whole damn day. We still don’t have a solid “answer,” but apparently he’s retaining fluids, which he sometimes does. But he’s also got other problems, like his respiration rate being low. Anyway, they’re figuring it out. He’s staying the night at the hospital, and they’re running tests tomorrow.

So all of that sucks. Still, I’m glad he’s getting help.

I spent part of this evening at the hospital, then left to participate in an improv comedy show at a local sushi restaurant. The show itself went great, but the crowd was spotty. When the show was over, I stuck around and hung out with my friends Justin and Joseph, who’d shown up to support our group. We ended up closing down the restaurant, then going for pizza and beer. Afterwards we all came back to my house, and they helped me gather up some things for my parents. (Mom is staying the night at the hospital with Dad.) Then we picked up some food for my parents and dropped everything off at the hospital. This was around one or two in the morning.

Obviously after visiting hours.

Then Justin and Joseph and I went to IHOP, since clearly the thing to do after eating one meal is to eat another. Anyway, we were there until four, and now I’m home. Honestly, I’m tired. Not just physically tired, but emotionally tired. I can’t tell you how effing done I am with sickness and doctors and hospitals and broken bodies. I’m like so over it. But what do you do?

In my case, I obviously spent the evening drinking a few beers and eating two meals. Well, three if you count the half a sushi roll that Joseph gave me after the comedy show. More importantly, I spent the evening in the company of some wonderful friends. I laughed a lot. When the evening was finally over, I told Justin, “I really appreciate your staying up late and helping me with Mom and Dad’s stuff. I know you have to be at work in a few hours.” He said, “Don’t worry about it. I figure that life is going to happen. You can either roll with it and participate in it or not. I choose to participate.” I can’t tell you how much I love this philosophy, the idea that we don’t have to push against every difficult situation, but that we can stay up late and eat and “friend” our way through whatever life brings us.

And then we can pass out, like I’m about to do.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Normal people don’t walk on water.

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A Light at the End of the Tunnel (Blog #334)

This morning I saw my internist, who’s a saint as far as I’m concerned. First of all, she allayed my fears that anything was seriously wrong with me. She said that my chronic sinus infections and other such irritating problems were most likely due to a “glitch” in my immune system, that–like being gay–some people are just born this way. In order to confirm or deny her suspicions about my immune system, I gave up four vials of blood to be sent off for analyzation. Hopefully the results will pinpoint exactly what’s up.

To make up for the loss of blood, I ate three chocolate bars.

In other news, apparently my B12 levels, although technically “in range,” are low for someone my age. So my doctor’s nurse gave me a B12 shot, and this afternoon I bought liquid B12 to take sublingually. With any luck, this supplementation will positively affect my overall energy.

These were the “big items” for the day, but my doctor and I also discussed my (genetically) high cholesterol, for which she prescribed some dietary changes and a natural supplement (red yeast rice). She said, “Let’s try this for two or three months, then re-test. If it’s still high, THEN we’ll talk about statins.” For my sinus problems, she told me about a different saline-rinse product and actually endorsed using baby shampoo in my sinus rinses once or twice a week. (So not everything I’ve read on the internet and tried in the past is crap.) Lastly, she told me that the most likely reason I threw up in my mouth while sleeping a couple nights ago was because of the salsa on my nachos, not because of the actual nachos themselves. “Tomato products open up the esophageal sphincter,” she said, “so it’s best to limit your intake of them to before 4 PM.”

Who knew?

This afternoon I saw my therapist, and when we discussed my health challenges and what my doctor told me today, she said, “So it sounds like the problem is genetic, and that means IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT. Everyone is dealt a different hand in life, and this is simply yours.”

Now how did she know I’ve been blaming myself for this?

I spent the rest of the day running errands and looking for the supplements my doctor mentioned. Really, despite the fact that I didn’t sleep much last night (most likely due to DAA or Doctor-Appointment Anticipation), it’s been a great day. My body has felt pretty good–really good, all things considered–and I’ve felt hopeful about getting my health issues sorted out soon-ish. Plus, I had coffee for the first time in two weeks (I gave it up when I got the flu), and that made me smile (and then made me jittery). But the bottom line is that between feeling a bit better and seeing both my doctor and my therapist in one day, I’ve been encouraged. At least for today, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Hopefully it’s not a train.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Even if you can't be anything you want to be, you can absolutely be who you were meant to be. Don't let anyone else tell you differently.

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A Rough Night (Blog #333)

Before I went to bed last night I ate a plate of nachos. I can’t imagine they were good for my cholesterol, but they were good for my taste buds, so that’s something. Then I lay down, watched an episode of Breaking Bad, and absolutely passed out. At some point during the night–I really don’t know when–I was rudely awakened by my own vomit. Quite literally, I awoke to find myself heaving. Fortunately, there wasn’t a lot coming up, and my lips closed in time to keep everything in. But it tasted awful. Anyway, I stumbled to the bathroom, drank some water, went back to bed and had terrible dreams, and woke up with a headache.

I’m never having nachos again.

Today I’ve been worried that last night’s adventure in the land of acid reflux will repeat itself when I go to bed later. Earlier I ate a bowl of soup and have been thinking, I don’t want to taste that again. So I’m determined to not eat anything while I blog in order to give everything a chance to settle down. I realize last night’s upset was quite possibly a one-off, but considering all the health problems I’ve been having lately, I’m paranoid that I’ll soon have one more thing to worry about. I’m concerned that I’m truly falling apart.

Might as well just put me in a wheelchair and get it over with.

Other than my general sense of worry, today has gone well. My mechanic tuned up my car, Tom Collins, so he should be good to go for a while. This afternoon I worked on marketing stuff for the swing dance event I’m working with, and that made me feel like I’m contributing to the world. Additionally, I saw my parents. I went to the bank. Tonight I talked to my sister, who’s a great listener and encourager. Talking to her always makes me feel better.

Now I’m doing laundry, since I’m seeing my internist tomorrow and want to be wearing clean pants for the occasion. (Considerate, I know.) The appointment is early, and I have an improv comedy rehearsal tomorrow night, so it promises to be a long day. For that reason, I’m going to try to wind down. Hopefully I’ll be able to get some rest and not throw up on myself.

There’s a sentence I’d never thought I’d say.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Pressure, it seems, is necessary to positive internal change. After all, lumps of coal don't shine on their own.

"

Simple Pleasures (Blog #332)

Yesterday I drove to Missouri for a sock hop. Talk about fun. There was music from the fifties (played on actual vinyl records), an Elvis impersonator, the stroll, a twist contest, a hula hoop contest, and a milkshake stand. I even got to perform in a Lindy Hop routine with nineteen other people (as a follower). I danced until I was soaking wet. At the end of the night, I could have won a wet t-shirt contest. Honestly, it was the most fun I’ve had in months.

After the dance, I helped my friends Anne, Andy, Matt, and Emma clean up the ballroom. (Anne and Andy own it and live upstairs.) Then Anne, Andy, Matt, and I went to IHOP and were there until almost three in the morning. (We got there late, and the staff was having a rough night.) Afterwards Matt went home, and the rest of us went back to the ballroom. When we got there, I realized my wallet wasn’t in my jacket and that it had probably fallen out at the restaurant. Andy and I went back, and Anne called them while we were on our way. Thankfully, they’d found it, and when I got there, nothing was missing.

Phew. That could have turned out so much worse.

Today Matt and I worked on Lindy Hop for a few hours. We bounced and jumped around quite a bit, and although my ankles were a little cranky, the rest of my body hung in there. I can’t tell you how thankful I am for this. Both last night and today, my energy level has been up. Almost normal. So many times in my life I’ve taken feeling good for granted, but having spent the last few months dragging ass, I’m reminded today that it really is a gift. Just being able to get out of the house and have fun with your friends and not feel like you’ve been hit by a truck–it’s huge.

That being said, I do currently feel as if I’ve been hit by a truck. But like a really small one. Like a Datsun. But that’s mostly because of all the jumping around Matt and I did today. I spent nearly an hour getting thrown in the air. And whereas it was way fun, I guess it all sank in on the drive home tonight. These bones ain’t what they used to be.

Don’t worry, I have Ibuprofen.

Now I’m back to house sitting for some friends and taking care of their dogs, who honestly seemed rather unimpressed with the fact that I’d returned. I mean, they barked, but they didn’t wag their tails when I walked in the door. That’s okay–I don’t need their approval. I can wag my own tail. With any luck I’ll be in bed before long, falling asleep grateful for simple pleasures like the company of friends, the feel of a wet t-shirt against my skin, and having a body capable of jumping.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Some things simply take time and often more than one trip to the hardware store.

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Making My Way Home (Blog #331)

It’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m almost ready to hit the road. There’s a sock hop in Missouri tonight, and I’ve spent the day getting ready. I took a shower, shaved, even clipped my fingernails and toenails. I kept thinking of that line from Scent of a Woman–“Get yourself up, get yourself together.” Then I put on a new pair of jeans along with a fresh white tee and made a delightful breakfast–fried sweet potatoes, scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit. And hot green tea. I feel like a new man.

I’m also ready to go back to bed.

I think the lingerings of the flu are finally over. Now I’m just back to my normal level of tired due to whatever is wrong. I’m currently listening to Natalie Merchant’s song “Wonder.” They say I must be one of the wonders, God’s own creation. And as far as they see, they can offer no explanation.

I said yesterday that I’ve been planning my own funeral. This is “mostly” a joke. I don’t know what’s going on with my body, but I don’t really think I’m dying, at least in the immediate sense. I think a person generally knows when “this is the end,” and I don’t have that feeling at all. You never know, of course, but my intuition says I’ll be around quite a while longer. (So you’re just going to have to get used to the idea.)

That being said, I have been thinking about death. Not in a macabre or morbid sense, but in an everyday sense. What I mean by this is–let’s face it–death happens every day. It’s something everyone–everyone–has to go through. Why not think about it? In my case, I don’t think I’m afraid to die. Granted, I’m terrified–absolutely frightened–of being sick and in pain. I don’t want to drown, burn to death, or have every bone in body broken and go through kidney failure. But taking that last long breath and drifting off this planet the same way I drifted in? That part I’m okay with.

Earlier I was thinking, If I were to die soon, would I be disappointed in myself? And whereas I still have a hundred things I’d like to do–like publishing a book, sharing my story, and helping others–I’m proud to say that no, I’m really satisfied with how I’ve lived my life. There’s a concept in spiritual teachings that part of our soul’s journey is to integrate–to line up our heads and our hearts as we pull all our scattered pieces back together. In short, the goal is leave this planet intact. This is why Jesus, as he hung on the cross, said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” It wasn’t about God and those who had wronged Jesus. It was about Jesus and his own personal soul, about not hanging on or being bitter, about not dying with any unfinished business. Indeed, he said, “It is finished.” His soul had done what it came to do. It could leave whole.

I’m not pretending to be like Jesus–by any means. (Although I do think I have good hair like he did.) There are still a lot of things in my life that could stand cleaning up, so I’m not putting myself on a cross here. At the same time, I realized earlier that I’ve worked my ass off these last several years to get myself up and get myself together. As much as anyone else I know, I’ve worked to own every part of my past and, at the the time, not use any of it as an excuse to be bitter, cynical, or unkind. I told my therapist recently that this work is tough stuff. She said, “You’re right, and it’s why most people don’t do it. But the reward is less anxiety and stress, better relationships, and peace.”

I think to think of this reward as coming home.

Honestly, I’m so often focused on what’s left to be done that I don’t give myself enough credit for how far I’ve come. But today I am. If only for this moment, I’m recognizing that if I were to die today, it would be well with my soul. I’ve done The Hard Work.

Toward the end of “Wonder” Natalie Merchant sings, “With love, with patience, and with faith, she’ll make her way–she’ll make her way.” With love, with patience, and with faith, I know I will too. I believe we all will eventually. We all will make our way home.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The clearer you see what's going on inside of you, the clearer you see what's going on outside of you. It's that simple.

"

Such Is Life (Blog #330)

For the last few weeks I’ve been putting off a project–writing a paper about marketing strategy for the swing dance event I’m working with. I’d planned to do it a couple weeks ago, but then the flu struck and struck hard. Anyway, the event is a few weeks away, so any marketing ideas I have are about to become moot, at least for this year. So today was the day I wrote the paper–I started this evening and worked for six hours on it. I still need to proofread everything, but the paper is done. It’s eleven pages long, almost five thousand words. This is why I’ve been putting this project off for so long–my brain is bleeding.

I just told my friend Matt about how I spent the day, and he said, “Have you blogged yet?” I said, “No.” He said, “Are you going to blog about procrastination?”

Ha. Ha. Ha.

This afternoon I finally heard from the immunologist’s office. They told me what additional bloodwork and tests they need, so next week when I see my internist I’ll be giving more blood. Also, they’re sending me a “new patient” package, and I have an appointment the first week in April to see the immunologist (provided the tests do indeed reveal a problem).

I guess five weeks isn’t that far away, all things considered.

Y’all, I’m completely nervous, worried, and paranoid about what the tests will reveal. I’m already planning my own funeral. (Say nice things about me. Please bring casseroles to my family. My dad likes chocolate cake.) Still, I keep telling myself that whatever is wrong has been wrong for a while, and it won’t do any good to bury my head in the sand or run away from it. Hell, if I can handle being sick, I can handle knowing WHY I’m sick.

So now we wait.

Such is life.

I need to wrap this up. I’m going out of town to a dance tomorrow, and it’s currently after midnight and I still have things to do. I’d like to proof that paper. Also, I’d like to take a shower, since I’m beginning to smell myself. This is one of the downsides to feeling poorly and not having many reasons to get out of the house–you don’t bathe. Frankly, it’s disgusting, but at least no one else is here to smell me. (I’m single.) As my dad says, “Such is life.” You put something off, and then you do it–you’re sick for the longest time, then hopefully you get some answers–you take a shower, or you don’t–you feel the way you feel. If you can, you try to accept life for what it is, with all its imperfections, atrocities, mysteries, and wonders.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Confidence takes what you have and amplifies it. Confidence makes anyone sexy.

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This Beautiful Burst of Light (Blog #329)

Today has been cold and wet, and I hate that. It’s depressing. It makes my feet cold. Why I wasn’t born on a tropical island, I’ll never know. Last night I was up until almost four, first watching Netflix then working on some Reichian Therapy breathing exercises. The exercises focused on breathing into your belly and chest, breathing into only your belly, and breathing into only your chest. I’m still not sure I was doing it “right,” but I think I saw my own aura during the process. I don’t know what else it would have been, this reddish/pink light dancing across the ceiling. And no, I hadn’t been drinking. I was completely sober.

Anytime I’ve tried to see an aura, mine or someone else’s, it’s never worked. That being said, every couple of years I have an experience like I did last night. It’s always out of the blue, never predictable. When it involves someone else, I’ll see colors around them, like a halo. When it’s just me, it’s usually when I’m lying down, and I’ll see colors projected on the ceiling. The first time it happened, it was yellow–last night, pink. I don’t know what any of it means, but experiences like these always remind me that there’s more to us than we realize. We’re not just flesh and bones. We’re bigger, more beautiful than that.

Despite my energetic experience last night, I’ve felt completely human today. My body is still dragging, and I spent most the day being angry at someone I don’t even know–the author of a book I just finished reading. The book was supposed to be about marketing “your business.” Instead the author spent most their time bragging–about their successful companies, their successful friends. (Harrumph.) In order to offset my bad mood, I went to a local bookstore in search of a book by Alexander Lowen, the founder of bioenergetics, which is similar to Reichian Therapy. (It’s my latest obsession.) I didn’t find the book, but I did enjoy browsing.

This evening I got back out to return the marketing book to the library and run some errands. I ended up buying a pair of jeans and three white t-shirts for a sock hop I’m planning to attend soon. It was exciting to get something new, even something little, but spending money when I don’t have a job always stresses me out. I feel the same way when I buy food, but then again, you gotta eat. My answer to this stress is usually to spend more money, so tonight I got on Amazon and bought the Alexander Lowen book I couldn’t find earlier. (I used a gift card from Christmas.) Of all the books I’ve read about the mind-body connection and healing, Lowen’s has made the most sense and been the most practical, and I can’t wait to dive in and learn more.

This morning I heard from my internist’s office. They spoke with the immunologist’s office, and the immunologist is supposed to let them (or me) know what tests they need. Yesterday it sounded like they wouldn’t take my case at all, and today it sounds like they’ll consider it, so I guess this is progress. By the time this is all over, I’m going to be a pro at waiting. I’ve been thinking this isn’t the worst thing in the world, having all this time on my hands while both my body and my doctors do their thing. Since starting this blog and especially since getting sick four months ago, I’ve been able to read and digest mountains of information about the body, healing, personal growth, and even marketing. This time in my life is frustrating for a lot of reasons, but it’s also provided me the opportunity to learn more than when I was in college.

So that’s something.

You can’t force an outcome.

Last night while working on the breathing exercises, I ended up breaking a sweat, grunting, even laughing. I didn’t have any specific memories come up, but I can only assume this was all beneficial, a release. Other times when I’ve done exercises like these, nothing. So I’ve been thinking that just like you can’t make yourself see an aura, you can’t make yourself heal. You can have a practice like yoga or meditation, some sort of space for the healing to show up in if it wants to–and I think you should–but you can’t force an outcome. Healing either happens or it doesn’t. Having tried so hard to heal for so long, I’m coming to see any healing, any letting go or movement in the right direction, as a grace, this inexplicable, beautiful burst of light that comes to us for no apparent reason.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The clearer you see what's going on inside of you, the clearer you see what's going on outside of you. It's that simple.

"

Shine (Blog #328)

This afternoon I spoke to the immunologist’s office, and they said they were waiting on my internist’s office for further lab results, results I’m pretty sure don’t exist. They said, “We get so many referrals, we typically don’t take new clients unless they have lab results showing an active infection.” I sent a message to my internist asking where we go from here–and I see her next week–but I don’t mind saying it’s difficult to advocate for yourself when you’re not feeling well. This, of course, is exactly when you need to advocate for yourself–when you don’t have the energy to do so. As Alanis Morissette said, “Isn’t it ironic?”

It really is funny how quickly your standards can change. Six months ago I wouldn’t have thought anything about making a phone call to ask for a doctor’s appointment. Today it took all the emotional strength I had. Maybe emotional strength and physical strength go together. After I got off the phone with the doctor’s office, I took a shower and returned some spark plugs to the auto supply store (because my mechanic told me the spark plugs were crap), and I was ready for a nap afterwards. Instead I came to my parents’ house and met my mechanic, who replaced my spark plugs (with ones he bought) then told me I could stand to have additional work (a throttle cleanup) done.

So that was good news.

Now I’m hanging out at home in order to raid the refrigerator and get the blog done. It’s been keeping me up the last few nights, and I’d like to have it checked off my to-do list for the day. This way I can pass out later if I want to. Honestly, I never thought this would be my life–constantly worn out, willing to work but unable to, discussing my problems on the internet. I remember once telling the universe that I could handle whatever it threw my way. I wasn’t trying to be cocky, but simply affirming my inner strength. I said, “I can do this. Bring it on.” Now I’d like to say–“I take it back.”

Pressure is necessary to positive internal change.

Joseph Campbell says, “Nothing can happen to you that is not positive. Even though it looks and feels at the moment like a negative crisis, it is not. The crisis throws you back, and when you are required to exhibit strength, it comes.” This is a statement that sounds great when your life is going well and is a real kick in the nuts when it’s not. Nothing can happen to you that’s not positive. Please. What chronically ill person is going to have THAT tattooed on their forearm? But here’s the thing–deep down, I really do believe that. Like a lump of coal under extreme pressure, I know that a profound transformation is happening here. Slowly, but it’s happening. I’m already stronger than I was six months ago, and I’m sure that wouldn’t be the case were it not for the physical and emotional challenges I’m currently facing. Honestly, I hate that life is set up this way, but it is. Pressure, it seems, is necessary to positive internal change. After all, lumps of coal don’t shine on their own.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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One thing finishes, another starts. Things happen when they happen.

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As the Sun Rises (Blog #327)

Today I attempted to have a normal day. I got up, fed the dogs I’m taking care of, scrambled myself some eggs. Then I settled into my laptop and answered some emails and worked on a couple side projects. It didn’t take long, however, for me to get overwhelmed. I got an estimate to replace the spark plugs in my car, and that reminded me that I don’t currently have a job. I thought, Maybe I should get one. Then I remembered that I’m still sick, so even if I had a job, I wouldn’t feel like going to it. Then I started feeling like I was completely behind “on life,” so I closed my laptop and tried to take a nap. When that didn’t work, I buried my nose in a book.

This evening I taught a dance lesson for a young couple who’s getting married this summer. As they were swing dancing, I kept sitting down, thinking, How do they have so much energy? Still, it was good for me to get out of the house, make a little money, and feel useful. Plus, it was helpful to be around people. When I stay by myself for too long, it’s easy for me to lose perspective. I start thinking things will never get better, things will never improve. My thoughts spiral down. In the midst of my problems, I forget that the sun comes up each morning.

This is my main challenge when I’m sick, being able to see my way into the future. When I’m well, I’m optimistic. I can think of a hundred ways in which my life could easily improve. But when I’m chronically ill, that optimism wanes. It’s like I get emotionally stuck in the mud. I start thinking of all the things that could go wrong, and I shut down, opting for distraction. I’m not convinced this is the worst thing in the world. Usually when I distract myself I’m still learning. And even if I’m not, who cares? As my therapist said recently, “If your life is such that you’re able to binge watch Netflix without hurting anyone, do it. Be grateful that you can.”

I think a big lesson I’m learning lately is to not try so hard, to sit back and relax, to let my body rest. This is tough for me. I’m a make-things-happen kind of person. I didn’t hear from the immunologist’s office today, and I’m already planning my next phone call or surprise office visit. Still, it does seem that answers often show up when we stop looking for them. This is the balance I’m working on–how much to push, how much to let go.

Mostly I’m simply trying to take things easy and truly be okay with that. Even in my present state, I could fill up every minute of every day with various projects, but I know I’d end up running myself further into the ground. So I’m trying to take it day by day and trust that at some point I’ll be back on track. My therapist says everything happens when it’s supposed to. So for now this is where I am, knowing that just as the sun rises, it never rises before its time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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The deepest waters are the only ones capable of carrying you home.

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My Therapist Says (Blog #326)

Last night my hips ached so bad that I lay in bed moaning. I couldn’t sleep for the longest time. Today I rallied the troops in order to go to therapy. When I told my therapist how hard the flu had hit me, she said, “Why didn’t you cancel today?” I said, “No. I need to be here. And it’s good for me to get out of the house.” My therapist said that the flu had hit epidemic levels, that her doctor clients haven’t seen anything like it. She said she had it several weeks ago and still wasn’t back to a hundred percent.

So that’s encouraging.

Before therapy I stopped by the office of the immunologist my internist referred me to, since it’s been five weeks and I haven’t heard anything. It took some time, but the nurse found my referral papers. She then said she needed to talk to the doctor but would call me tomorrow afternoon. I told my therapist about this and that I nearly cried while I was waiting in the doctor’s office. I’m just tired of feeling bad. I’m desperate for help. My therapist said things like this always move in phases–just like therapy. Nothing happens all at once. She said to focus on the progress that’s been made already–I had sinus surgery last year, I can breathe now (that’s something). The next step is this doctor, and if this doctor can’t fit me in, then I look for another.

One thing at a time.

I can’t tell you what a nice reminder this is, to just slow down and breathe. I really do get worked up about this sort of thing. It always feels as if I need to heal NOW, get my life together NOW. My therapist says it’s my all-or-nothing mentality, my need for perfection. Today she said, “You’re already perfect the way you are, Marcus, and you’re always going to have “something” to work on, some challenge facing you. I think your big hangup is that you’re so focused on what still needs to be done that you don’t take time to celebrate all the progress you’ve already made.”

I said, “Nailed it.”

Later I told my therapist that I felt like life had really kicked my ass lately. This last week there was the flu and my car needing some work. “You’ve been through a lot this year,” she said. “You had the car accident. It’s this funny thing the universe does–whenever you really work on yourself, it puts more obstacles in your way.”

“Who made up those rules?” I said.

“Right?” she said. “But don’t worry. It gets better.”

So that’s encouraging.

Now it’s almost midnight, and I’m at a friend’s, house sitting. It took all my energy to pack and get me here, but I’m all settled in amongst the couch pillows and fast internet. So that’s something. I’m thinking about the fact that I’m coming up on four solid years in therapy and that I really have made a lot of progress. Despite the fact that things don’t always happen as quickly as I’d like them to, they obviously do happen. And if life can take me from where I was to where I am, then surely it can take me to where I’m going.

So that’s encouraging.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You really do belong here.

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