Today I’ve been thinking about gratitude because recently–really without having to try too hard–I’ve come across a handful of extremely helpful things. Upper cervical care of my neck and headaches, a new therapist for resolving trauma, a myfascial release practitioner for releasing constrictions, and–most recently–a woman who’s helping me better understand my personality and the way I was made to best function and be of service in the world. When I told my (regular) therapist about how I met this woman (I randomly told an acquaintance that I was hungry, and they invited me to join them and a friend, this personality whiz, for lunch), she said, “If that’s not kismet [fate, destiny], I don’t know what it is.”
“I know,” I told her. “So many wonderful things have happened lately. I get so focused on what’s NOT working (currently I have an ice bag on my hurting hip) that I forget to be thankful, but it truly is wild how these things have come about.”
Y’all, for years I’ve been both praying and working my ass off for answers, for healing. And whereas I certainly still have problems, I am starting to make some progress. In truth, I was probably making progress all along and simply couldn’t see it. You know the way a seed sprouts underground and sends out roots long before anything breaks above the surface. My point being that it’s easy to feel like you’re getting nowhere when you can’t see evidence of progress. Likewise, it can be difficult to feel gratitude when things aren’t one hundred or even seventy-five percent better. But it’s important to 1) be grateful for any and all progress and 2) acknowledge an answer to prayer when you get one.
I don’t know. We read all these stories about how Jesus told the lame man, “Get up and walk.” Like it happened that fast. We say, “It was a miracle.” And yet when WE HEAL over the course of several weeks or months we think, Whatever. No big deal. Like the healings and good fortunes in our lives AREN’T miracles because they didn’t come in a flash, with fireworks. And yet miracles come at all speeds, in all shapes and sizes. Rarely do they announce themselves. When I met this woman the other day, who truly did help me out and provide a lot of peace of mind in terms of loving myself “as is” and not comparing myself to others, there weren’t any trumpets. Just an empty restaurant and a bowl of chili.
More and more I believe we really don’t know what heaven is up to, or what it’s capable of. We imagine we do, but when the divine begins to act in our lives, when it sends us help just like that, we dismiss it. We say, “What a strange coincidence.” Rather than recognizing these events as answered prayers, as graces. That’s what I see my being hungry as the other day. A grace. Like, God wanted me to meet someone but couldn’t just drop her in my lap. So that morning he sent me the thought to eat a light breakfast, and then down the rabbit hole we went.
The mystic Meister Eckhart said, “God is bound to act, to pour himself into thee as soon as he shall find thee ready.” And whereas I don’t claim to be ready (whatever that means) or to be filled with God, my point is that if you’re asking God for help, know that you can expect an answer. What’s more, as Caroline Myss says, know that when “that side” plays ball, they play to win. In other words, expect that–when the time is right–your life will be flooded with any and all help you need–to heal, to succeed, to help others, to fulfill your purpose.
In other words, Buddy, get ready. The team that’s got your back can seriously make shit happen.
For the last two days I’ve been obsessed with Charlie Puth’s song “Patient.” It’s about a boyfriend who’s begging his girlfriend to “please be patient with me” as he learns to be the man he knows she wants and needs. But when I hear it I imagine that the divine is asking me to please be patient with it. Because although it’s capable of healing or doing anything in the blink of an eye, more often it doesn’t. More often heaven answers our pleas over time because we need time–to change, to adjust to a new way of thinking, a new way of being. So please, just because things aren’t happening as fast as you’d like, don’t believe that things aren’t happening. For you and through you. Underground, seeds are sprouting. Roots are being laid down. In places you can’t see and in ways you’ll never understand, your cries for help are being answered.
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
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Growth and getting far in life have nothing to do with where you’re physically standing.
Okay, let’s just get right to it. This last weekend I felt like hell. Saturday I had a headache all day, and yesterday my neck hurt, my shoulder felt hot, and my lower back was locked up. This morning when I stumbled out of bed I felt every bit of my thirty-nine years and then some. And whereas I realize this could be read as complaining, it’s simply the truth.
These are the facts.
Whenever I feel this way (like a bag of ass), it’s extremely frustrating because despite my best efforts, not only are my physical problems continuing, they’re apparently getting worse. Month by month and year by year it seems there’s SOMETHING ELSE that’s not quite working right. Last summer my stomach started acting up. Since then, I haven’t been able to breathe as well. For a while now my ribs have felt constricted. Every time I breathe deeply, they hurt or my shoulder does. I’ve talked to multiple medical doctors, chiropractors, physical and massage therapists, and acupuncturists, but no one’s been able to help me significantly. The most recent medical doctor I asked about headaches said, “Posture has a lot to do with that.” And whereas I don’t disagree with that statement, no amount of posture correction techniques, including physical therapy exercises, yoga, pilates, stretching, bioenergectis, myofascial release, and chi kung, have changed my condition. I try and try to get my body to stand straight and “do right,” but I’m still in pain. One chiropractor–a doctor and self-professed “really smart” man–told me, “You’re an anomaly.”
He still took my money, of course.
I could go on and on about this topic and know I have in the past. Suffice it to say that it’s VERY DISHEARTENING to not only be faced with a physical challenge, but also to do everything you know to do to find an answer (talk to experts, read a ton of books, pray) and still come up with peanuts. Personally my biggest challenges have been sinus infections and headaches, and I know that they’ve often left me feeling quite hopeless. Indeed, there have been times that I’ve cried out to whoever’s listening up there for help and felt like I was totally ignored or–worse–completely unloved. Tylenol takes the edge off my headaches, but nothing takes the edge off this, the feeling like you’re all alone in the universe, that God’s left you twisting in the wind.
Recently I heard that a prayer heaven always answers is one that sounds like this. Dear God, I don’t care what it takes or how you turn my life upside down, but get me out of this pattern (of illness, of unhealthy relationships, etc.) Well, this is a bold prayer, of course, since you’re giving the gods permission to do what they want with your life, but–let’s face–they’re going to anyway. So you better bet I’ve been praying that prayer. Help, Lord, I want out.
I wish I could tell you that I’ve had unshakable faith that my prayer would be answered. And yes, I know that “no” and “not now” are valid answers from heaven. Sometimes we simply don’t get what we want. Sometimes, especially when it comes to physical problems, we don’t get relief until we die. This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. Will I simply have to suffer with this until I kick the bucket? If so, am I strong enough to do that? Because one day of solid pain is bearable, but day after day for decades? I can’t imagine. That’s one positive thing that’s come out of my hurting these last few years. For the rest of my life, I’ll hold increased compassion for anyone who feels like they’re up against a wall and getting nowhere. If this is you, I understand. My heart goes out to you.
Also, hold on. Your story’s not over.
One thing I say a lot is that God works in mysterious ways. Well, get this shit. Several weeks ago I posted about ANOTHER sinus problem I was having, and a friend of mine (whom I met through dance nearly twenty years ago and only this year reconnected with) said she used to be in the same boat but that something called Upper Cervical Care had helped. “I don’t remember the last time I had an infection,” she said. Well, for all my talking to experts and reading constantly, I’d never heard of upper cervical care, so I started digging around and found a doctor in Northwest Arkansas–Dr. Jackson Chism–who’s one of the three people in the state who practices it.
While reading the reviews on Dr. Chism’s Facebook page, I began to cry. (This is usually my intuition’s way of letting me know that what I’m hearing is true.) People were saying they’d suffered from headaches, migraines, and fibromyalgia for years and had seen vast improvements if not complete remission of symptoms. Hopeful, I told myself I would go by his office the next time I was in Northwest Arkansas. However, weeks went by and I didn’t stop by or call. I do this sometimes, put off trying something that could help because I’ve tried SO MANY OTHER THINGS that haven’t helped and don’t want to be disappointed AGAIN. Because–if this doesn’t work, then what?
One thing I’ve been looking into and have mentioned here before is a posture and movement correction program I heard about online. Seriously, it seems really smart, really legit, the main idea being that a lot of our posture problems are caused from the BOTTOM UP. Like, we sit all day, which shortens our hip flexors, which tilts our pelvis, which causes our back to sway, which rounds our shoulders, juts our head forward, and so on. Anyway, if I had the money, I’d be on a plane tomorrow to work with one of the trainers who promotes this program. (No one does it around here.) This is part of my frustration. Like, I don’t have the money, don’t have the resources to take care of myself.
However.
Recently I’ve been going through a series by Caroline Myss and Jim Curtan about the symbology of The Wizard of Oz, and one thing it says is that Dorothy’s dog’s name in Latin (Toto) means “everything,” the idea being that from the start of her journey until its very end, Dorothy always has EVERYTHING she needs. When she clicks her heels together three times and teleports back to Kansas, Glinda the Good Witch tells her, “You could have done this all along.” So I’ve been reconsidering the notion that I need more money or need to leave the state in order to heal. I’ve been thinking, Maybe the answer’s right here.
Getting back to upper cervical care, a couple weeks ago I finally called Dr. Chism’s office. As “luck” would have it, not only was he taking new patients, but he was also running a special–x-rays with consultations before and after for under $40. “Let’s do it,” I said.
Last Monday was my appointment. I met Dr. Chism, he explained what he does (I’ll get to that part below), then he took x-rays, saying that he never makes adjustments without knowing what he’s working on first. “It’s possible I’ll look at your x-rays and determine that I can’t help you,” he said. “If that’s the case, we’d be wasting my time and yours to go any further.” Then we scheduled my next appointment.
For this afternoon.
For the last week I’ve been cautiously optimistic. Dr. Chism explained that at the base of our skull sits something called an atlas, the first “disc” of your spinal column. Then he put his thumb and first finger together and dropped a pen down the middle. “Through your atlas runs a bundle of nerves that control most everything else in your body,” he said. “But if your atlas shifts because of a car accident or something, it can pinch those nerves and cause all sorts of problems. [This is why upper cervical care can help sinus infections, apparently, because your nervous system influences your immune system.] Additionally, that shift can cause your head to lean one way or the other, and then your body will lift a shoulder or tilt a hip in order to correct the problem.” Still, despite this explanation making sense to me, again, I felt like crap all weekend and thought, I’m probably just throwing money down the drain. I’m broken. God doesn’t care, and no one can fix me.
I actually thought that this morning on my way to a meeting. But no kidding, just as I finished whining, I turned my head and noticed one of the many inspirational yard signs that have recently sprouted up around town. “Don’t give up,” it said. Then, when I arrived at Dr. Chism’s this afternoon, the lyrics of the first song that came on when I sat down in the waiting room said, “Don’t you give up on a miracle. You gotta speak to the impossible.” And whereas I’m normally turned off by offices that play “churchy” music, I took this as a direct encouragement from above.
Hold on. Your story’s not over.
The first thing Dr. Chism did with me today was go over my x-rays, which are just below. On the left you can see where the vertebrae in my neck are. The red curve, Dr. Chism explained, is where they’re supposed to be. “Ideally the top vertebrae is over the bottom one, and the ones in between curve like a banana,” he said. “Yours is straight as a board.” I said, “It feels stiff as a board.”
Other doctors have pointed out the fact that my vertebrae show signs of deterioration and bone spur calcification, but no one else has adequately explained why. “If your discs were deteriorating because of age [which other doctors have said], they’d all look the same because they’re the same age,” Dr. Chism said. “But some of yours are better than others.” Then he explained that my discs were showing signs of wear because my head is forward of my body, and my structure is trying desperately to support itself. “For every inch your head is forward, it adds ten pounds. So a ten pound head becomes a twenty or thirty pound one,” he said. “That’s why your body’s laying down new bone, in order to shore itself up.” Then he pointed to the base of my skull (where I experience the worst of my headaches) and said, “One consequence of all this is that these muscles will always be tight.”
Check.
Next we talked about my atlas, the vertebrae that’s the focus of upper cervical care. Apparently the ideal situation is for the atlas to be titled at 8 to 10 degrees, but Dr. Chism said mine was at 3.4. “The problem is that this pinches nerves and–worse–cuts off blood supply to the brain. So you might feet tired all the time [check] or begin to experience neurological symptoms [check: tremors].” We talked about the BOTTOM UP theory, but Dr. Chism said, “For you, I can definitely say the problem is TOP DOWN. Your body cares more about getting blood to your brain than it does about whether or not your hip flexors are short.”
When I asked WHY most of my issues show up on the right side of my body, Dr. Chism directed me the right x-ray, in which you can see a definite “kink” in my neck. My reaction to this and our ENTIRE conversation was consistent tears. It was like my body was confirming, “What this man’s saying is true. THIS is what we’ve been living with for years, for decades.”
“The good news,” Dr. Chism said, “is that THIS is what I do. You’ve got a lot going on, but it hasn’t progressed to the point where it’s irreversible [as would be the case if my bone spurs had actually FUSED my vertebrae together].” Then he asked if I WANTED a treatment today, and I said YES, HELL, YES. From there he walked me through getting on my knees, lying my head turned one way on a small table (about the height of an ottoman), and relaxing as much as possible. Then he felt for my atlas, placed one hand karate-chop style along the base of my skull, and with the other (I think) applied swift pressure. Inside, I heard what sounded like the cracking of a large walnut.
“I heard that,” Dr. Chism said. “They probably heard it next door.”
Y’all, that was it. Five seconds and it was over. When I got up (slowly), I was a little dizzy, and Dr. Chism walked me to another waiting room where I lay down with my head and knees supported for about 25 minutes. “Your body and nervous system need time to adjust to what just happened,” he said. Well, adjust they did. For the first–I don’t know–five to ten minutes, I cried. Then I laughed a lot. The entire time I could feel my head, neck, shoulders, hips, and legs shifting ever so slightly, tightening up, then relaxing. When Dr. Chism came back, my hands were tingling. “All of that’s normal,” he said. “It’s just your system changing.”
When I first arrived at Dr. Chism’s today, he used a particular tool to measure–I think–how the nervous system in my neck responds. I’m still not super clear on what this tool does. What I do know is that when I got there today, the graph this tool produced looked like a YELLOW S. “We want that line to be straight,” said Dr. Chism. “That’s what we’re working toward.” Well, after my adjustment and “sink in” period, my line was still curved but much straighter, as indicated by the TEAL LINE below. “It’s almost perfect,” Dr. Chism said. “For the first treatment, it’s awesome. You’re going to do really well.”
Before I left, Dr. Chism said, “If you wake up feeling awful again tomorrow, don’t be discouraged. This isn’t a one-and-done thing, and it’s going to take time to get you where we want you. [My thought: That’s okay. You don’t learn to cha cha in a day either.] Also, if you wake up feeling fabulous tomorrow, don’t get too excited. This is A PROCESS. Either way, you might be sore because as your body makes corrections, it’ll be using muscles it’s not used to using.” Then he gave me a dos-and-don’ts pamphlet, his staff took my payment and made me an appointment for next week, and I went on my merry way.
This evening I’ve continued to feel slight changes in my body, something Dr. Chism said could happen over the next two days. And whereas I’m still aware of tightness here and pain there, overall things are MUCH looser and mobile than they’ve been in a long time. Y’all, I’ve been cracked, whipped around, poked, prodded, needled, cupped, electrically stimulated, medicated, and colon cleansed. I’ve spent thousands of dollars trying to feel better and–time and time again–been frustrated. (To be clear, some things have helped, albeit not solved, my problems.) But then today happened. As I sit here now my shoulders aren’t as tight, my rib cage doesn’t hurt as much, and it’s easier to sit and stand up straight.
And here’s something–I’m happier.
As one of my chiropractors often says, things can turn on a dime.
Y’all, I realize I almost never discuss my healthcare providers by name but have gone on and on about Dr. Chism. This is simply because I am so very grateful for having met him. I don’t think it happened by accident. I also realize this is a VERY long post, one of my longest. Alas, this is a BIG subject for me both physically and emotionally, and it has a LONG history. I also want others to be as clear as possible about the process should they choose to explore upper cervical care for themselves. (It’s recommended for headaches, migraines, IBS, acid reflux, fibromyalgia, asthma, arthritis, and chronic fatigue, among other things). Still, if you skimmed down to the last paragraph, I don’t blame you. The main thing I want you to know is that more and more I believe 1) there’s always hope, 2) there’s always help, and 3) even though it may not seem like it at times, heaven is listening. We’re not in this alone. God works in mysterious ways. (Along these lines, sometimes not having enough money to do the things you want to do–and think would help you–IS an answer to prayer.) So don’t you give up. Whatever you’re going through, hold on.
Yesterday I was supposed to be a dance gigolo, but the gig got cancelled. And whereas a part of me was like, Crap, there goes that money, most of me was like, Something else will come along. Because of this incident, I’ve thought a lot today about two things I claim to believe–1) the idea that things happen for a reason and 2) the idea of divine timing, that everything happens when it’s supposed to. Because both these ideas are easy to profess but harder to really animate when the rubber hits the road. Like, whenever I’m counting on a certain amount of income and a client says, “Let’s forget about it,” my faith in “God knows what he’s doing” starts to falter.
As if God’s primary concern were my bank account.
Another thing I claim to believe is that God works in mysterious ways. To me this means that–really–none of us know why anything happens or doesn’t happen. In terms of my plans changing last night, it could be that had I driven out of town, I would have hit a deer (or worse). Or I could have had such a miserable time that the money wouldn’t have been worth it. (As it was, I had a delightful evening.) Caroline Myss says that when you pray for things, you don’t get to tell God how to answer you. Well, I’ve asked for a body that feels as good as possible as well as for healthy relationships, and it’s possible my going out of town last night would have been out of alignment with those requests.
This must be a lesson the universe really wants me to get, since this afternoon I drove all the way to Fort Smith for an appointment only to find out that it too was cancelled. (The person whom I was meeting had sent me a message that they were sick, but I didn’t get it because my phone network was down.) Anyway, it was forty-five minutes of my day that felt completely wasted and unproductive. Again, part of me was like, This blows. But most of me was like, We are not going to complain. We’re alive and well and have been given an opportunity to relax–to NOT be productive. We are going to be grateful. And it was that simple. I wouldn’t let myself throw a fit.
My advice–don’t let yourself throw a fit.
Tonight I went to a swing dance at the studio where I tore my ACL this last December. This was my first time back since the accident. When I was getting ready I actually thought about wearing the same (slightly oversized) shoes I was wearing when the accident happened, like, I’ll show you, slippery floor, but decided against it. Instead, I wore shoes that hug my feet and have stickier bottoms. And guess what? I didn’t hurt myself.
Of course, I didn’t attempt to jump over anyone’s head either.
Y’all, dancing tonight was the best thing. I saw and danced with several people I know and, in the process, got in some serious cardio. By the time the night was over, I was sopping wet.
Here’s a video (taken by my friend Sydnie) of my friend Renee and me Lindy Hopping to Caro Emerald’s Completely.
Wow. So much has happened since the last time I was dancing on that floor. I remember the night of the accident. I couldn’t get out the front doors by myself. Someone had to support me. There are times when I get frustrated because my knee and I can’t do everything we used to, but–really–it’s a miracle that we’re dancing at all. Also, I keep calling it an accident, but another idea I claim to believe is that there are no accidents. In other words, at least in my best moments, I believe that my injuring my leg, on some level, needed (knee-dead) to happen. I can’t say why–that’s above my pay grade–but I do know the whole experience has given me more compassion, patience, and understanding for both myself and others, and that’s enough for me.
The way I see it, if you say you believe something, at some point you’ve got to start acting like it. “Acting like it,” indeed, is an accurate way of describing what you’ll be doing at first. That is, until you get the hang of it, you won’t feel patient or understanding when someone cancels on you, or when something terrible happens. My therapist says, “Fake it until you make it.” Now, I don’t know that any of us ever “make it.” I doubt it will ever become fun for life to throw you a curve ball. But I do think it gets easier to accept what is (gracefully) if you can slow down and remind yourself that even frustrating or “terrible” things can contribute to your growth.
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
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More often than not, the truth is a monster. It gets in your face and makes you get honest. Sometimes the truth separates you from people you care about, if for no other reason than to bring you closer to yourself.
