With Practice (Blog #715)

Praise the sweet baby Jesus. After feeling like crap for the last few days, as of this morning–and I do mean morning–I feel better. Once again, the credit goes to the miraculous probiotic/bacteria L. Sakei, which I received a new batch of in the mail yesterday afternoon and used three times before going to bed last night. No shit, y’all, I woke up at four this morning bright-eyed and ready to go. I eventually fell back asleep, but talk about getting your energy back. The previous two nights I woke up hot and sweaty. But as of four, I’ve been back to my normal-temperature self. Fingers crossed this trend continues.

This afternoon I went to Fort Smith to see my chiropractor and massage therapist, as well as to return a pair of crutches I borrowed from a friend over three months ago when I injured my left knee. Boy, did giving those suckers back feel good. For nearly a month I needed them to traverse even the shortest of distances, but this evening when I went to the gym, I was able to jog on the treadmill for twenty minutes, unassisted! (I mean, crutches on a treadmill would be totally awkward.) But, eeek, I really have come a long way. That being said, I may have overdone it on the treadmill. My knee was a bit swollen when I got home, so I had to ice it. Oh well, I guess it’s normal to have little setbacks.

Little setbacks. That’s what I consider the sinus infections that have creeped up on me lately. And whereas part of me is frustrated that I’ve had to deal with them at all, another part of me is thrilled because what used to last anywhere from seven to fourteen days (or more) is now over in forty-eight to seventy-two hours. Plus, my former sinus infections often involved doctors, prescriptions, and multiple swipes of my credit card. But now I’m knocking these things out from the privacy of my own home for a mere thirty-five bucks (the cost of the probiotic) or less (if I have some of the product left over). So maybe my sinuses aren’t perfectly healed or “normal” like everyone else’s (whatever that means), but THIS IS HUGE PROGRESS.

HUGE.

Whenever I have a health setback, I’m reminded what a blessing good health is. This afternoon when I dropped the crutches off I borrowed, my friend and her husband and I visited for over an hour and a half. Not once was there an awkward pause or did I think, I wonder what we’ll talk about next. Rather, we laughed and laughed. Seriously, it was one of the best times I’ve had lately. All thanks–I kind of hate to admit–to my hurting my knee.

So you know, silver linings.

But really, when you’ve been sick and finally feel better, there’s so much joy in the simplest of things–visiting with friends, going to the gym, watching a television program (which I did before starting tonight’s blog). It’s like, Hey, I feel good. I’m ALIVE. What can I do now?

After having sinus infections for decades and finally finding something that works, what I can say is that “it gets easier.” What I mean is that–apparently–it’s not that I’m never going to get a sinus infection again. But having done the hard work in terms of seeing doctors and doing no small amount of internet research, I now know what to do about them. Likewise, I know what to do when it comes to my knee rehab. Again, not that it’s fun or pleasant, but it’s less intimidating than it was when it first happened because I’ve walked–or more accurately hopped, lurched, and scooted–this road before. This thought applies to the work I’ve done in therapy too. Over the last five years, I’ve gotten a lot of practice setting boundaries, having confrontations, speaking my truth, and listening to my gut. And whereas I wish I never had to have a difficult talk ever again, that’s not realistic. But since I’ve done it before, I know I can do it again. Indeed, with practice, anything gets easier.

Want something to get easier? You know what to do.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Everything is progressing as it should.

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On Looking for Silver Linings (Blog #640)

It’s day four after knee surgery, and–believe it or not–I’m walking. Well, sort of. Sometimes it looks like walking, sometimes it looks like lurching. Still, for the most part, I’m not using a walker or crutches. The doctor said I could get around without them after I could do twenty to thirty straight-leg lifts without assistance. And whereas he said most people could do that seven days after surgery, I’ve been doing that since yesterday (day three). So basically I’m a rock star.

No autographs, please.

I’m making jokes, but personally, I’m not celebrating my slightly ahead-of-schedule recovery because this isn’t fun and this isn’t pretty. Seriously, walking to the refrigerator shouldn’t require every ounce of willpower a person has and three Hail Marys. I don’t know. It’s the weirdest thing–sometimes I feel really solid, and other times I feel like I’m putting my weight down on a piece of boiled spaghetti. (Whoa!) Then there’s the pain. The vast majority of the time, it’s not that bad. But if I’ve been in bed or had my leg propped up on the couch for a while and then stand up, well, that makes me want to cuss. And usually I do.

But then I give it a minute, and the pain goes away.

For the last few days, I’ve survived on only Tylenol. Sometimes Ibuprofen. Granted, I’m glad to have the prescription heavy hitters if I need them, but they sort of made me loopy, and I’ve heard they can make you constipated. (Like I’m not already full of shit.) But really, I don’t need anything else to go wrong.

God, I need something to go right.

It’s simply one of those days. Fuck, it’s one of those years. Hard, difficult, and kick-you-in-your-gut challenging. And I’m tired of it. I’ve said this before, but I cry uncle. Go pick on someone else, universe. Earlier I saw one of those stupid, feel-good memes with a picture of a daisy that said, “When everything seems dark, maybe you haven’t been buried; maybe you’ve been PLANTED. Bloom!” I seriously wanted to barf. If you ever come to me when you’re in the midst of The Dark Night of the Soul, and I look at you and not only compare you to a flower but also suggest that you immediately spring forth and open up your petals for me (and no, that’s not a sexual reference), you have my permission to punch me in the ass.

It’s not that I don’t see all the silver linings in this situation. I’m making progress every day. I’m supported by a lot of people. I have good friends. And despite the fact that this last year has been filled with health challenges, I’ve made headway on a number of fronts. But here’s the deal. I’m TIRED of looking for silver linings. I’m tired of waking up every day (almost every day) and staring at clouds. I need a sunny day. I need a string of sunny days.

Uncle.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Healing requires letting go of that thing you can’t let go of.

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Full of Silver Linings (Blog #626)

Despite sleeping last night for a solid twelve hours, I’ve been dragging ass today. Also, I’ve been dragging my left leg, and I’m sure the fact that my knee is injured is contributing to my general exhaustion. Ugh. Everything from taking a shower to putting my pants on simply takes more effort than it used to. But I’m working on being gentle with myself, by seriously lowering my standards regarding what constitutes a “productive” day. After I took a shower this afternoon (and shaved!), I thought, That’s enough. If I do nothing else for the rest of the day, I showered!

Yesterday my friend Bonnie sent me a meme that said, “Your worth is not measured by your productivity.” And whereas I agree, this is a tough idea for me to shake, that “getting shit done” isn’t what it’s all about. (It’s the Hokey Pokey, duh.) Anyway, I’m trying to remember this, that my inherent value hasn’t changed just because my mobility has.

Yesterday after seeing the Symphony of Northwest Arkansas, I went to Dickson Street Bookshop, one of my favorite used bookstores anywhere, ever. No kidding, it’s awesome; there are more books than you could shake a stick at. Thankfully, I was able to limit myself to one purchase, a book about the “benefits” of being ill. This afternoon I read the first few chapters, and the author’s point seems to be that often a debilitating illness (like arthritic hips in his case or a bum knee in mine) causes us to slow down and thus affords us opportunities we might not otherwise afford ourselves. For example, we might use our down time to reflect, reconsider our priorities, write a book, or even–here’s a novel idea–tell someone no.

I guess a book would be a novel idea too. (Insert groan here.)

So far, this line of thinking makes sense to me. As frustrating as it is for me to have an injured knee, I do appreciate what it’s teaching me. Already I’ve been forced to receive kindnesses from friends and strangers I would have under different circumstances refused to accept. Surely this is a good thing, just like it’s been a good thing for me slow down, slow way down, this last year while I’ve battled a number of health challenges. Before all this mess started, I almost never slowed down, almost never got still and really sat with my emotions. I mean really. But that’s a benefit to being sick. It makes you raw. It makes you listen to yourself.

Or at least it strongly encourages you to listen to yourself.

Not that I’m not ready for all this bullshit to be over. I am. I’m ready to walk again, ready to dance again, ready to wake up in the morning ready and willing to go. One day. For now, this is my life, and I’m working on accepting it with grace. Working on it. This afternoon I saw a dear friend who just had back surgery. They were told, “You can eat a BLT, but you can’t BLT (bend, lift, or twist).” This evening I had dinner with a friend who’s having surgery on their wrist after the first of the year. And it’s not that misery loves company. Because I’m not miserable. That’s my point. It’s difficult to feel miserable when you really get it–I’m not alone here.

This is the human condition. Fraught with challenges. At the same time, full of silver linings.

Earlier tonight I tried replacing a lightbulb in one of my chandeliers. However, something is apparently wrong with the socket. No matter how many different perfectly good bulbs I put in it, it wouldn’t light up. And so it is with this body. I’ve tried everything I know to do, and it’s still tired, still hurts. Are things forever hopeless for me and my chandelier? Absolutely not. First, for my chandelier, there’s always Lowe’s. Second, for me, the body is full of wonders, capable of all kinds of miracles. Last week I developed a skin rash that had me all kinds of stressed out, but the last few days, it’s been improving. It’s not perfect, but it’s moving in the right direction. So I have to believe the body tends toward repair. I have to believe life wants me to heal, if not physically then at least deep down. I have to believe that even my challenges serve this purpose, since they not only allow me to meet myself in a new way, but also reveal strengths and powers within me I previously did not know existed.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Since one life touches another, we can never really say how far our influence goes. Truly, our story goes on and on in both directions. Truly, we are infinite.

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