On Seeing Options (Blog #1056)

Today I’ve been thinking about options and the idea that we always have them. This morning I saw my primary care physician, whom I saw for the first time several months ago and–honestly–wasn’t crazy about. Er, I wasn’t crazy about his bedside manner. Still, he was on top of my test results, and a couple people I trust, including my therapist, suggested giving him another chance. So I thought, What the hell? But on my way to his office this morning I kept imagining some sort of confrontation, him being an asshole or something. But then I thought, Even if he is, Marcus, you’ve got options. You can stand up for yourself. You can ask him to change his tone of voice. You can listen. You can storm out and flip him the bird.

You know, options.

Despite all my fretting, my appointment with my doctor went fabulously. Indeed, he was much warmer than he was before. Or maybe I was. Regardless, we got along. What’s more, he patiently and attentively answered all my questions and addressed my concerns. What’s even more, he took an aggressive approach to one of my longstanding issues (acid reflux) and suggested I see a specialist. “If you don’t hear from them within a week, call me,” he said.

So often I worry about my health problems and think, It’s hopeless. I’ve tried everything. And sure, I HAVE tried everything that I’ve tried. But more and more I realize that I haven’t even come close to trying everything in the world. I mean, think about it. Our planet is chockfull of information and the experiences of other people, people like you and me who have struggled and–finally–found an answer, people who are just waiting to share. And whereas what works for one person may not work for another, it may. (I’ll say it again.) It may. This is why lately I’ve been especially sold on the idea of talking to others about the problems in my life that I want solved. Normally I’m so “I’ll do it myself, damn it,” but the older I get the more I’m convinced I can’t think of everything. I can’t do everything myself. I NEED others, especially experts in their respective fields, to pass along new ideas, new options, new hope.

To remind me that all is not yet lost.

One thing I’ve noticed about me is that I often put off trying something I think will help because, well, what if it doesn’t work? I’ll have this ace up my sleeve–a home remedy or a new doctor, let’s say–but I wont use it because I imagine that if THIS THING doesn’t work, nothing will. Which, of course, would send me into the pit of despair, and since I don’t want to go there, I don’t try the thing. Alas, this applies not only to my health issues, but also to my business and creative adventures, even my dating life. I don’t want to be disappointed, so I’m not even going to try.

As you know, dear reader, a thought like this is very logical in your head. But not so logical on paper. Because if I don’t try–if you don’t try–then guess what? That’s right, barring divine intervention, a Damascus Road experience, nothing is going to change.

Yes, let’s hear it for trying. Better said, let’s hear it for not giving up. (Hip, hip, hooray!) Thomas Edison knew something about not giving up. He attempted to create the lightbulb 1,000 times before he got it right. 1,000 times! 1,000 “failures” or disappointments. And yet he kept trying, kept hoping, kept believing. In possibility. In answers to tough problems. In himself. Ugh. This is the the hardest thing, to continue to persevere when the proverbial door is slammed in your face over and over again. And yet look what one person–one person!–can do when they decide to stick with it. When they see OPTIONS instead of LIMITATIONS. Wow! They can light up the world.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"You can't change your age, but you can change what your age means to you."

All Is Not Lost (Blog #628)

This morning I woke up early–me, awake before noon–because we’d scheduled to have our carpets cleaned and my dad and I needed to move furniture around before the carpet cleaner guy got here. Well, when I rolled out of bed, Dad had already done most the work. But I didn’t go back to bed; I stayed up. Later the guy said he could have worked around me while I slept, but that would have been awkward. Not to mention the fact that this was the first time in–well, a long time–that I’ve had a man in my room, and like I wasn’t going to be awake for that.

But seriously, y’all, this carpet cleaning guy was worth getting up for; he was absolutely hilarious. You know how some people are just natural born performers–always on. Well, for two hours he chatted and worked and had me and my dad in stitches. When my dad (who’s a big guy) razzed him about having gained weight since he was last here, he said, “Hey, this is my winter weight!” Then he looked at my dad’s stomach and said, “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!” Seriously, I was rolling in the floor. It was better than going to the movies.

Oh my gosh. Stop the presses! I just heard a joke from my friend Jeffrey on Facebook. (Sometimes I get distracted while I’m blogging.) Anyway. Why do Santa’s helpers have to see a counselor?

Because they have low elf-esteem!

Okay, back on track. This afternoon I went to see my massage therapist. And whereas she couldn’t work directly on my injured knee, she did work above and below it. That is, she worked on my hip flexors and my calves. Wow, they were seriously tight, I’m sure because I’ve been “walking funny” in order to protect my knee. Thankfully, whatever she did helped. Granted, my knee is still stiff, but it’s not nearly as sore or as rusty as it has been. Anyway, I’m grateful for all the help I’m receiving. As my massage therapist said when we were discussing the severity of my injury, “All is not lost.”

“That sounds like the quote of the day,” I said.

So get this shit. All day I’ve been tired and nauseated. I’m assuming the nausea has something to do with my upset stomach or perhaps my leg. Pain can do that. The point is that when I got back home from seeing my massage therapist, I settled in for a long winter’s nap and ended up dreaming about preparing for an improv show. (Ironic, I know.) Anyway, in the dream I had my laptop out and was searching for a particular song–“Saturday in the Park” by Chicago. You know–Saturday in the park. I think it was the fourth of July. Well, when I woke up, in an effort to figure out my dream, I looked up the lyrics to the song, since the first two lines were all I could remember. And no kidding, right at the end of the bridge it says, Listen children, all is not lost. All is not lost. Oh no no.

Talk about crazy. I’m into this connected universe shit, but even I was weirded out. Granted, I’ve heard that song dozens of time, but I never in a million years could have told you “all is not lost” was part of it. Still, clearly it’s a message I need to hear. Because I have been overwhelmed this last year, and I have felt like all is lost. Not that I’ve been hopelessly down in the dumps or ready to jump in front of a moving vehicle. Far from it. (Don’t worry, Mom!) But I have felt pretty beat down by life and haven’t been able to believe “there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.” (My first thought when people say that: It’s probably another train.) But the last time I saw my therapist, she actually got emotional talking about HOW MUCH she believes things are going to turn around for me before long. “I’ll believe it until you can believe it for yourself,” she said. So I’m going to try to let this sink in. Life can get better. Things can improve. All is not lost.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Even a twisted tree grows tall and strong.

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