When You Feel Like Giving Up (Blog #242)

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After forty-three straight days of having a life-draining, soul-sucking sinus infection, today I’ve felt like a new man. Last night I rubbed kimchi juice in my nostrils, and I’m assuming that’s what’s done the trick. It’s gotta be that or the hundred and one vitamins I’m taking. Currently I’m still having some allergy issues, still coughing, but despite the fact that I didn’t sleep much last night, my energy today has been off the charts. I’ve spent the last six weeks absolutely wiped out, tired behind the eyes all day long, but today I was awake for ten hours before I even thought the word “tired,” and then it was while walking up a broken escalator. (Talk about a tease.) So things aren’t “perfect,” but the difference between yesterday and today has been astounding. More than the physical improvements, I’ve been happy all day, walking around with my chest stuck out like a damn superhero just because I’ve felt close to normal. Y’all, it’s not something to take for granted.

This afternoon I saw my therapist, and whereas I’d planned to talk about how I was tired of being strong, how being sick for six weeks had almost completely drained me of hope, I ended up talking about how I put fermented food up my nose and woke up twelve hours later with the energy of Rainbow Brite. My therapist said she didn’t think it was an accident that I’d been spending so much time searching the internet and finally came across something that worked. She said, “I think you needed a win, and the universe gave you one.” Then she added that when you feel like giving up, that’s when you have to keep going, since help is probably just around the corner.

Personally, I think this is a shit deal and don’t know why life is set up this way. Don’t get me wrong–I’m thrilled and grateful beyond measure for the bacterial miracle I’m currently experiencing. This could seriously be a game-changer. Still, I’d like go on record as saying that I think it sucks when the universe drops you to your knees then turns right around and asks you to push a little harder. Just keep going, help is right around the corner. Like, couldn’t help move half a block and make my life easier? Not that anybody in charge asked for my opinion. As Byron Katie says, “You don’t get a vote.” So I guess we’re back to that idea–acceptance. I could wake up tomorrow and feel like a million bucks or I could be sicker than ever. Either way, what am I gonna do about that?

After therapy I spent most of the day reading. Then I went to the mall and looked around because my therapist said–when we were talking about pride–that I should wear a shirt with a single gold star on it, the implication being that I’m a gold-star gay. (A gold-star gay is a homosexual who’s never slept with a woman, Mom. A double-gold or platinum-star gay is a homosexual who was born by c-section, thus making him someone who’s never (ever) touched a vagina.) Anyway, the only shirt I could find with a star on it was red with a yellow star. But since I’m wanting to look like a homosexual and not a hot dog, I didn’t buy it.

I’m sure there’s some joke that could be made about “wiener” at this point, but I’m too tired to think of it. Plus, my mom reads this.

Tonight I decided to back off some of the vitamins I’m taking. First, I didn’t sleep well last night, and that’s unusual. Along the same lines, I’ve felt rather “hyped up” today. Second, my stomach has been a skosh upset. Well, the problem is that I’m taking ten different vitamins, so it’s hard to know what’s causing what or if they’re even a factor in what’s going on. Still, I’m not usually one to sit still on such matters, so I Googled the side effects for every single one of the vitamins. And whereas practically all of them can cause an upset stomach, only one of them can cause insomnia (echinacea). So I cut out echinacea for this evening, as well as vitamin c, since I was hitting that pretty hard and it’s the most famous for causing stomach problems if you go overboard.

As always, figuring this out feels like trying to ski down a mountain backwards and blindfolded.

Suddenly the sun breaks through the clouds.

I guess we all do the best we can. As the old hymn says, “One day at a time, sweet Jesus.” But even though I’m not a hundred percent better, I’ve been thinking, Oh well, I’ll get over this soon enough. I mean, if a six-week sinus infection can start to turn itself around in less than a day, anything really is possible. My therapist and I talked about this today and how it could apply to other aspects of life–like, say, blogging for free when you don’t have a job–the idea that you can grind it out day after day, then suddenly the sun breaks through the clouds. A dove appears–the storm is over. This, I think, is really good news. My personal squabbles with how everything is set up notwithstanding, life obviously doesn’t intend for anyone to stay down forever. Just when you’re ready to let go of hope, hope refuses to let go of you. Gripping you tightly it says, “All I ask is one more day.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Aren’t you perfect just the way you are?

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In Search of Flaxseed and Hope (Blog #241)

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Last night I went to Walmart for a bag of flaxseed and honestly spent thirty minutes looking for it. Since I did three full laps up and down every aisle and still didn’t have a bag of flaxseed in my hands, I can only imagine I looked like someone who was there strictly for the exercise. Eventually I thought to use the Walmart phone app, which tells you what aisle items are on if they’re in stock. Well, of course it was in stock–on the nut aisle. I’d walked past it three times. Can we say, “not observant”?

So sue me–I never claimed to be Columbo.

On the way to checkout, I saw a sign in the women’s clothing department for a company called NOBO, which apparently stands for No Boundaries. I didn’t look at any of their products, but I can only assume they think having no boundaries is a good thing. Who knows–maybe they make stretch pants. (Their slogan could be, “There’s no place we won’t go.”) But all I could think was, This is a terrible name for a company. Boundaries are a good thing. Boundaries are the holy grail! (My therapist said so.) I actually thought about screaming this right there next to the panties, bras, and girdles, but decided to just blog about it instead.

Last night I started taking a hundred and one vitamins to help boost my immune system and (hopefully) get rid of my six-week sinus infection, and this afternoon I woke up feeling just as bad as ever. My friend Margo commented on Facebook that I needed to give the vitamins a chance, that my level of patience was obviously nonexistent. I don’t disagree with her assessment, but I just want to feel better–now. Honestly, I think it would do us all a world of good–I’m sick of blogging about this, and I can only imagine you’re sick of reading about it.

Tomorrow I have to get up early for therapy. Determined to get some rest, I told myself I was going to blog this afternoon and get it over with. Currently it’s 11:15 PM, so that obviously didn’t happen. Still, this start time is a lot better than my usual two in the morning. With any luck, I’ll be in bed in no time. But the point is I got distracted this afternoon because I started reading more about sinus infections on the internet. (Well, in people’s noses, but you understand.) Surprisingly, I found a website I’ve never heard of before, and it contained some information that may help me kick this thing in the butt.

The plot thickens. (Like my mucus.)

The website (and some others I found) basically said that many people who suffer from chronic sinus infections are missing a bacteria in their sinuses, specifically, L. sakei. It also said that the biome of bacteria in our sinuses is different from the one in our stomachs, so even if most probiotics included L. sakei (which they don’t), it wouldn’t help to take them. Rather, one needs to introduce the bacteria into their nose directly. Oh good, I thought, I have a finger. Now, where can I find this stuff?

As it turns out, L. sakei by itself is hard to come by, although it is used in meat-packing and sold by a company in New Zealand. However–and this is where it gets interesting–it’s often (but not always) found in kimchi, the Korean superfood that’s basically fermented cabbage. That’s right, people on the internet say you can actually heal a sinus infection by rubbing kimchi juice on the insides of your nostrils “like a really messy eater.” The idea is that once it’s in your nose, the new bacteria will grow, kill the bad bacteria, and give you your freaking life back.

Well I’ll try anything once. I mean, so far I’ve put baby shampoo and hydrogen peroxide up my nose–what’s a little food juice? Honestly, of all the things I’ve read on the internet about sinus infections, the idea that my body is missing an important bacteria makes the most sense. I’m not a scientist, but why else would my body have such a problem fighting this infection when everything else is working?

With this logic in mind, I set out this evening in search of any and all kimchi I could find. I quickly discovered that Walmart only carries one brand of kimchi, and since it wasn’t one of the ones listed on the website and I like to follow rules, I ended up going to three–three–Asian markets. Y’all, Asian markets are really fascinating. First, I felt super tall because the shelves were lower than what I’m used to. Second, I’ve never seen so much soy sauce in all my life. Lastly, there were dead fish up and down every aisle (basically just lying around like decoration), and since they had eyeballs, I felt extremely conspicuous. But I digress. I ended up with two different brands of kimchi. Neither of them were on the list either, and neither of them had a “manufactured on” date (which is good to know because L. sakei doesn’t show up in the fermentation process right away), but I decided I was doing the best I could.

So far I’ve rubbed the kimchi juice in my nostrils twice. Currently I’m still coughing and tired, but I’m not worn out like I was this afternoon. Maybe it’s the kimchi–maybe it’s the vitamins or simply taking a shower and getting out of the house–but I do think I feel better. At the very least I feel optimistic. I read a lot of stories this afternoon about people just like me who have suffered for a long time, and it’s reassuring to know that something eventually worked for them. As I think about it now, maybe I am like Columbo, doing all this detective work, digging around the internet in search of crazy solutions that, like the clothes at Walmart, have no boundaries. (Don’t throw those leftovers away, you can put them up your nose!) And whereas I’ll have to get back to you on whether or not I actually found a solution today, I can say that I found some hope, and that’s no small thing. So to anyone in search of flaxseed or hope–whatever you do–do stop looking until you find it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s hard to say where a kindness begins or ends.

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My Fickle Mistress (Blog #240)

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This afternoon I went to a natural health food store in search of vitamins to heal my sinus infection and wanted to slit my wrists within two minutes of walking in the door. You know how employees try to be helpful. Well, the lady working the front desk started asking all these questions. What seems to be the problem? What’s wrong with you? So I told her about my sinus infection, and she was off and running, picking up bottles of anti-allergy pills and probiotics. “But we need to get to the root of the problem,” she said. “It’s probably your house. I had one lady whose house was filled with mold. Maybe that’s your problem–you’re house sick.”

“Well, I’ve lived in three different houses in the last year and have been sick in every one of them, so I don’t think that’s it.”

Then she started talking about the need for regular elimination. I thought, I swear, I just met this person, and she’s already talking about my bowel movements. “That’s not a problem,” I said. “I’m very regular.” Refusing to quit, she picked up a book about fasting that looked like it came over on the Mayflower. “I was just reading about what a miracle fasting is–it’ll even cure asthma.” I’m pretty sure I rolled my eyes. “That’s perfect–just don’t eat.”

“Exactly,” she said.

Well–thank god–another customer asked for her help, and that gave me a chance to breathe. Y’all, I hope I’m not coming across like a total ass, but I get so frustrated with “those people” who work at health food stores. I mean, not all of them, but you know the ones–the ones who walk around with their noses in the air because their underwear is made out of hemp and they haven’t eaten a donut since Carter was president. Like, this lady asked me about my diet and actually said, “You don’t eat dairy, DO YOU?” I mean, I’m all for cutting out certain foods to be healthier, and I’ll be the first to admit that I diet for vanity, but don’t act like you’re better than me because you don’t put milk in your organic coffee.

Since I actually showed up with a list of products suggested in the sinus book I’ve been reading, I looked around the store for a while. The main product I was looking for was a particular type of garlic, since garlic is supposed to be a natural antibiotic and anti-fungal. Well, the store didn’t have it. “But we have all these other types of garlic right over here,” the lady said. “I have one customer who swears by fenugreek and thyme. Now where did THAT bottle go? We must be out–I’ll call our supplier.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, “I’m not going to buy it. I’m really more interested in the garlic.”

She picked up the phone. “We’ll need some eventually.”

Frustrated on every level, I left the store. I guess part of it was that I’ve spent so much time and money in stores like that one over the years. Everyone promises their favorite product will help you, and when you’re sick, you’ll believe anything. Cod liver oil is different than snake oil, right? Oh, it’s not? That’s okay, you can still have my money. Sadly, most the things I’ve purchased haven’t made a dramatic difference. Y’all, I didn’t set out to be such a cynic. But–honestly–I’ve had dozens upon dozens of sinus infections over the last twenty years–I’ve been sick with this sinus infection for six weeks–don’t tell me I’d suddenly be better if I squirted grapefruit seed extract up my nose. (I’ve already tried that.) Also, the last thing I need is for a total stranger to judge me for going to a medical doctor by saying, “You took an antibiotic?!”

As if being sick were my fault because I did.

For a while I considered driving to Fayetteville to look for that specific brand of garlic, then I considered ditching the whole project and ordering everything online. But something said go to The Vitamin Shoppe, so that’s what I did. Y’all, it was perfect. The girl behind the counter said hello but didn’t once ask if she could help. Rather, she left me alone for an entire hour, during which I consulted the list on my phone, looked around the shelves, and decided what to do. During the process, I calmed down about the lady at the other place and decided I didn’t have to have that one brand of garlic. I thought, I’m just going to do the best I can. Besides, this isn’t magic–it’s magnesium.

When it was all said and done, I had eight bottles of stuff, give or take. Thankfully, except for the Vitamin C, it was all cheaper than I’d anticipated, and some of it was even on sale for Black Friday. Still, I was a bit overwhelmed by all the bottles (I’ve done it again–I’m one of those people), so I swung by Walmart on the way home to get a pill caddy to organize everything. (I also swung by my aunt’s to do some odd jobs and took the above photo with her dog, Nick.) Anyway, you know what kind of pill caddy I’m talking about–the color-coded kind for every day of the week, the kind both my parents have that I’ve previously looked down upon.

Well shit. Now I’m one of THOSE PEOPLE too.

When I got home I organized my pill caddy and watched The National Dog Show by Purina with my parents. (It’s a sexy life, but someone’s gotta live it.) As of ten minutes ago, I’ve taken two fists full of vitamins, and I’m currently convinced I wasted my money this afternoon. I don’t feel a bit better. I mean, I’m hopeful, but what if this doesn’t work either?

Bodies are fickle mistresses.

This morning my friend Elisabeth sent me a beautiful devotion about not beating yourself when you get sick. It quoted the writer Flannery O’Connor as referring to her battle with lupus as “one of God’s mercies.” To me this means that seen correctly, a challenge can be a great teacher. This afternoon my dad spoke with a long-lost family friend and found out he’d been paralyzed from the chest down. When it first happened our friend was bitter, but he told my dad that prayer had become really important to him. Now he says, “If I had to choose between prayer and having my legs back, I’d choose prayer.” So even as I get irritated with store clerks and swallowing fists full of vitamins, I’m trying to remember that we all have our difficulties and teachers. What’s more, I’m reminded that bodies are fickle mistresses–they give and they take away. But I do believe that some things are more faithful than that, or at least give more than a body every could.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Just as there’s day and night literally, there’s also day and night emotionally. Like the sun, one minute we’re up, the next minute we’re down. Our perspectives change constantly. There’s nothing wrong with this. The constellations get turned around once a day, so why can’t you and I? Under heaven, there’s room enough for everything–the sun, the moon and stars, and all our emotions. Yes, the universe–our home–is large enough to hold every bit of us.

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The Headless Horseman and Dreams of Healing (Blog #239)

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After two days of feeling good about the world, I and my positive mental outlook took a nosedive today. Nosedive is an appropriate word, since my melancholy mood is directly related to my sinus infection, which apparently is not going away like I thought it was. I can breathe–that’s a good thing–but all day I’ve continued to cough, deal with drainage, and suffer from lethargy. I can’t tell you how frustrating this is. I’m literally punching the keys on my laptop as we speak, and I’m considering using a baseball bat to knock my own head off. Actually, I bet that’s what happened to the headless horseman–he probably had sinus infections for years, got sick of them one day, and decided to replace his face with a pumpkin.

No wonder he was angry.

The day itself has been delightful. I got plenty of rest last night, the weather has been gorgeous, and I got to go for a long walk. On top of those things, there’s still leftover pie in the refrigerator, so life isn’t all bad. I just keep wishing I had more energy, although I’m not exactly sure what I’d be doing with it if I had it. I mean, when I wasn’t walking or eating pie today, I was reading, which is probably what I would have done even if I’d felt like a million bucks. Flipping pages doesn’t exactly require a lot of stamina. Still, no one likes to feel as if they’re running on an empty tank of gas.

Putt, putt, putt–clunk.

Last week I had a dream that I was looking at my right hand as if it were under an x-ray machine. Inside my hand were loose bones–not like broken bones, but extra ones, kind of floating around. This is where the dream gets fuzzy, but I think it was like a game of Operation–I was trying to get everything in place. Anyway, today while I was walking, I listened to a lecture on Jungian dream interpretation by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, and she described dreams as “letters from home.” To me this means that dreams are messages from a deeper, wiser part of ourselves and are sent to us to help make us whole.

As for actual dream interpretation, the lecture said to start by writing down your dreams. Then it said to identify all the nouns, then write down what you associate with each noun. Finally, rewrite your dream, but put the associations in place of their respective nouns. For example, the nouns in my dream were my right hand (writer, getting things done, control), an x-ray machine (to look inside, see what’s really going on), and bones (structure, solid, strength). I’ll get to the interpretation later, but I believe this method is exactly how my therapist works with dreams. Of course, it’s always nice to have ideas reinforced and explained in different ways.

This evening I read some more in the book I started earlier this week about sinus problems. Honestly, I’m having to take it slow because it’s a lot of information, and–frankly–overwhelming. As the book suggests a holistic approach, there are a lot of recommendations, and it’s difficult for my inner rule follower to figure out which ones are “required.” Like, if the book lists six vitamins that are good for boosting the immune system, do I really have to go out and buy all six? Because I could easily overdo things and go broke super fast. Plus, I’ve been that person who’s had fifty bottles of vitamins and minerals before, and I hate being that person. I’m definitely willing to try again, but I’ve got to find a balance this time.

After reading the book, I went to Walgreens, Walmart, and CVS in search of a suggested herbal sinus rinse that’s been around for over a hundred years. (CVS had it.) So far I’ve tried it once and am equal parts hopeful and pessimistic. I told my mom that I feel like a sucker for trying everything under the sun, but that I have to try something because my antibiotic runs out tomorrow, and it obviously isn’t getting the job done anyway. (Sorry, cephalosporin, but you’re not.) “I don’t think you’re a sucker,” Mom said. “I just think you want to feel better.”

My god, do I ever.

Tonight I’ve been wondering if I have the strength to fight this sinus infection, to rally the troops and try something else–then something else if that doesn’t work. Part of me definitely thinks no–no I don’t. I’m worn out. But another part of me thinks yes. Already tonight I’ve been thinking about some of the book’s suggestions, and I’m considering holistic doctors I could work with so I don’t have to do this alone. Actually, I just took a break from blogging to look at options online. And whereas I normally feel as if I’ve exhausted all my options, it now seems as if there are a million things I haven’t tried. A day after Thanksgiving, I’m grateful for these options–overwhelmed, but grateful nonetheless. Surely something will work. I’m also grateful for what this infection has brought me–a better diet, a smaller waistline, a ton of new information, and plenty of compassion for anyone with a chronic problem.

So, thank you, sinus infection–you may go now.

As I finished my walk tonight, I watched the sunset and thought about the meaning of the dream I had. Personally, I think the image of the x-ray of my right hand is fascinating–the way it had to do with looking inside myself to see what’s really going on in terms of writing, getting things done, and being in control. The fact that there weren’t any broken bones, obviously, was a good thing. Rather, there were new bones, new growth. This tells me that I have more structure and strength than I realize and that things are coming into place. So I’m reminding myself that if there’s a wisdom that makes the sun set and sends me dreams to help make me whole, then surely that wisdom can guide me toward healing and provide the strength I’m not always sure I have to get there.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes you have to go back before you can go forward.

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Coming Out of the Desert (Blog #237)

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Last night I went grocery shopping at Walmart, and there were so many people, I wanted to throw my bag of organic lemons at everyone who crossed my path. On the canned fruit aisle, I did my best to be patient as a little old lady argued with her granddaughter about whether to put oranges or pineapples in the fruit salad. Oh my god, I thought, would you please make a decision? You’re blocking the sliced pears! Well, next thing I knew, the lady started talking to me–“You’re here for a reason!”

You’re damn right I am, I thought as I smiled, and it’s on the other side of your cart.

But then she said, “Would you be so kind as to reach up on that top shelf and hand me a jar of cherries?”

Well I felt like an ass. “I’d be glad to.”

“Happy Thanksgiving!” she said as she headed down the aisle.

I reached for the sliced pears. “Happy Thanksgiving!”

At the risk of being presumptuous, I think my sinus infection is getting better. Last night I started a new YouTube home remedy (I’ll spare you the details), and whether it’s that or the antibiotics kicking in, I’ve been breathing better and coughing less all day. Plus, I’ve had more energy and felt like drinking coffee (that’s usually a good sign). More than anything, I’ve actually had positive thoughts today. Life isn’t so bad. My body can get over this. There’s still time to meet Zac Efron. This, of course, is a big improvement over all the moaning, groaning, ain’t-it-awful thoughts that have been hanging around the stage door of my mind for quite a while now. I mean, this evening I went back to Walmart to pick up a couple things I forgot last night, and despite the fact that the whole town of Plymouth Rock was there, I didn’t want to throw fruit at a single person.

Talk about a holiday miracle.

This afternoon I spent some time reading at Sweet Bay Coffee Shop. At one point an elderly man wearing a Korean War ball cap came over and said, “Excuse me. I couldn’t help but notice that you’re reading. I think that’s great! You never see young people reading anymore.” So we had a nice chat about books versus the internet, but the whole time all I could think was, Oh my god, he thinks I’m young!

And I don’t even moisturize.

Another thing I did this afternoon was go the library. Y’all, I’ve said it before, but did you know those books are FREE? Seriously, what a great place. Anyway, I picked up a book by Robert S. Ivker called Sinus Survival: The Holistic Medical Treatment for Allergies, Asthma, Bronchitis, Colds, and Sinusitis. I saw a copy of it in a bookstore last week, and it was mentioned in the YouTube video I watched last night, so I figured I needed to read it. Apparently the author is a doctor who used to have chronic sinus infections but successfully healed himself and has since helped thousands of his patients do the same. As of now I’m fifty pages into the book, and I’ve already learned more about sinus infections than I have from twenty years of having them. So we’ll see how it goes.

But I’m hopeful, and that’s a start.

I think what’s comforting about a book like this is knowing that I’m not alone. The author says that sinus infections are actually one of the top health problems in the world and qualify as an epidemic. He tells the story of one lady who had fourteen sinus surgeries before she came to his clinic. I mean, I’ve had a lot of problems over the years, but I can’t even imagine. Anyway, regardless of what happens in the future, it’s nice to realize that the universe hasn’t been singling me out all these years. We all have our challenges.

Tomorrow marks forty days of my being sick, so I’m choosing to look at it symbolically, as if it were the forty days Jesus spent in the wilderness or the forty years God’s children spent in the desert. (Seriously, who gave Moses the map?) This number, of course, more than being literal, symbolizes a period of testing or tribulation. I suppose all sorts of good things can come out of difficult times like these–patience, inner strength, and compassion, to name a few. Who knows what something is ultimately for? I mean, I thought I went to Walmart last night for sliced pears, but that little old lady thought I was there to help her with a jar of cherries. And who’s to say I wasn’t? Likewise, who’s to say the guy who wrote the book I’m reading wasn’t sick so he could help others? Perhaps that’s the case with me. At the very least, this problem has brought me closer to myself, and that’s certainly enough.

If life can create a problem, it can also provide an answer.

But what I’m currently most thankful for is the idea that our times of tribulation eventually come to an end. That’s what I’m starting to believe–that’s the hope I talked about last night and mentioned earlier. For years I’ve run around to medical and naturopathic doctors, health food stores, and spiritual retreats trying to heal my sinuses and “get better.” The surgery earlier this year was a huge improvement, but over and over again it’s felt like everything was hopeless and nothing would work. But I really am coming around to the idea that if life can create a problem, it can also provide an answer, that we’re not meant to suffer forever. For surely the wilderness was meant for crossing, just as the desert was meant for coming out of.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can't build a house, much less a life, from the outside-in. Rather, if you want something that's going to last, you have to start on the inside and work your way out, no matter how long it takes and how difficult it is.

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That Which Is Scary (Blog #236)

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Currently it’s two in the morning, and Mom and Dad are in bed. The house is quiet, I’m at the kitchen table, and the most interesting thing I can find to talk about is the plant sitting next to me–the one my therapist told me to buy a couple months ago. Recently a new stem appeared. It’s tiny, but it’s taller than the others. The way its leaves are folded back, it reminds me of a rocket ship. To me it looks full of potential, and I wonder what will become of that new stem, haw far its leaves will spread out one day. And where did it even come from? I swear it wasn’t there five days ago. Honest to god, it’s like I’m sitting next to a miracle.

Today has been all over the place. I’m coughing less than yesterday, but I still feel like crap. There’s just no better way to say it. I know I was pretty pessimistic in yesterday’s blog, and some of that bad attitude leaked into today. Objectively I know that life will improve and everything isn’t all bad, but it certainly hasn’t felt that way. I’ve talked to my therapist about this before, and she says, “When you’re off in the body, you’re off in the mind.” To me this means I simply don’t have access to my best thinking when I’ve been sick for five weeks straight. So for now I’m trying to hang in there, to trust that things will look different after the storm has passed.

Since yesterday I wasn’t even trying, I consider this a big improvement.

I honestly am rather disgusted by the fact that one sinus infection has taken up so much space on this blog. I wish I had something else to talk about. That being said, I told a friend earlier tonight that sinus infections have been my constant teacher over the years, and this one has been no exception. Just when I think I’m trusting, patient, optimistic, and kind, all I need is a good sinus infection to bring me back to reality. But on a deeper level, being sick like this brings up all my emotional shit–all the icky feelings like “not good enough” and “despair” that have been making themselves at home and putting their feet on my table for decades.

You know how feelings can take over, like they own the damn place.

In terms of not feeling good enough, I imagine we all feel this way at times. After all, advertisers don’t exactly entice us to buy their products by suggesting we’re perfect the way we are. But I think the button that gets hit for me is deeper and goes back to having to grow up so fast when my dad went to prison. At the time I didn’t think it was a big deal to take over the house and keep going to school, even to stop going to church and stop eating pork when my family changed our religious beliefs. But I can see now that all of that was a huge deal. I did the best I could, but I really wasn’t up to the task emotionally. Not only was I in over my head, but I was also isolated because we’d made ourselves so different from everybody else.

Twenty years later, it still feels like I’m not up to the task. Well-meaning people make suggestions (Have you tried a Neti Pot?), and it feels like an accusation, something I’m not doing right. But earlier I was thinking about how I’d respond if a fifteen-year-old I knew were going through what I went through at that age–what I might say if he were giving himself a hard time–and my heart absolutely melted. So I’m trying to extend the compassion I’d feel for anybody else to myself, to realize that I’m doing best I can (damn it) and always have been.

In terms of feeling despair, this is something I’m just starting to unpack. It’s something my therapist and I have been talking about lately but that I haven’t discussed here because it feels so raw. But a few weeks ago I was talking about several things that happened–or rather, didn’t happen–when I was a teenager. These were things I got my hopes up about, like Dad being found innocent or, when he wasn’t, being let out of prison early. Anyway, I was telling my therapist that I often feel powerless, like there’s nothing I can do to make a situation better, and all of a sudden she got quiet. (She never gets quiet.) Then she said, “I just realized something that affects and changes everything else we’ve been talking about.”

“What?” I said.

“Hope is scary for you.”

Honestly, I haven’t exactly known what to do with this information, which, by the way, is correct. Brene Brown says that hope is information, and my therapist says I’ve been let down so many times over the years that I simply haven’t had the right data. Consequently, I’ve spent a lot of time reading about people who achieve their dreams or who overcome chronic health problems, but there’s always a part of me that doesn’t quite believe those things are possible. Well, maybe they’re possible for someone else, but not for me. “It’s too bad,” my therapist says, “since life is actually set up for you to succeed.”

Again, if some teenager in my improv class told me he was afraid to hope, I’d melt with compassion. If someone told me they were going through a storm, I’d say, “You’re going to make it. Things will look different when it’s over, but mostly because you’ll be different–stronger than you were before.” So I’m trying to take it easy on myself, to take both this sinus infection and my life one day at a time and not assume the worst. Things can get better–they’re already better than they used to be. Looking at the plant beside me, I’m reminded that I, too, am full of potential, capable of new growth at anytime. For surely if a plant is a miracle, then I am one too, ever ready to let go of that which is behind, turn my face toward the light, and hope again.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Every stress and trauma in your life is written somewhere in your body.

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One Day at a Time (Blog #235)

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As Little Orphan Annie would say, “Yesterday was plain awful.” By yesterday, of course, I mean yesterday, today, and now. The good news is that I slept for over thirteen hours last night and napped this evening for two or three, so my body has gotten some rest. The bad news is that I was sweating all through the night, my body aches, and I’ve been coughing up junk all day. Physically and emotionally, I’m worn out. Even now I’m close to tears because the last thing I want to do is stay up to write an inspirational blog.

Seriously, whose idea was this–to sit down each and every day and find something positive to say about the world, to let life kick you in the nuts repeatedly then turn around and say thank you? I know, it was my idea, but couldn’t I have just started a cooking blog like everybody else? I mean, I could have worn an a cute, little apron and said things like, Look at all the wonderful things you can do with coriander! Surely that would have been easier than this project. At least I would have had a recipe to follow. But now I don’t know what step to take next. On every level–in both life and online–I’m frustrated and don’t know what to do.

Personally, I think it really sucks that I dragged my ass to a doctor last week and am now feeling worse than I have since this whole mess started five weeks ago. And yes–I know my attitude is terrible. Things could be worse–things could always be worse. Just last night my mom (who has freaking cancer) threw up twice because her headache was that painful. Today my dad had to stop midway from his car to Mom’s doctor’s office because his knees hurt so bad. So you don’t have to tell me–I realize I could have it worse and am not looking on the bright side over here. Rather, I’ve spent the day being irritated by the smallest of things, like the young adult fiction novel I’m reading that, like my illness, refuses to get better as it goes along.

That’s how I know I’m really not doing well, when I find myself losing perspective and being hypercritical of the world around me. Everything that was fine the day before is suddenly a major crime. The television’s too loud, my hair is wrong in every way, the book I’m reading is stupid (but I keep reading it). Objectively I can say that my attitude is bad because my resources are low, that eventually I’ll be back on my feet and will see things differently. But it certainly doesn’t feel that way. Rather, it feels as if no matter what I do or try, nothing will ever improve.

I guess that’s a difficult idea for me to get away from, the idea that there’s something I can do about this, that if I just ate better, knew the right doctor, or were my spiritual, I wouldn’t have this chronic problem. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with those things, of course, but if you do everything you know to do believing it will make a difference and the difference doesn’t show up, then you’re left feeling like you’re somehow inadequate or have been weighed in the scales and found wanting. In my case, as if getting sick weren’t enough, getting sick always feels like it’s my fault for not knowing enough.

This is something I’d really like to get away from. Obviously there are a lot of factors that go into health and wellness and there’s plenty more I could learn, but even God told Job it wasn’t for him to understand the mystery he was living. Honestly, this is a tough pill for me to swallow, I guess because it requires me to surrender. I’m so used to go-go-going and do-do-doing, I have a difficult admitting that something as personal as my health and well-being are ultimately beyond my control. I imagine most westerners feel this way–we hate thinking of ourselves as vulnerable. Maybe that’s why we have a hard time showing compassion when people suffer. Someone our age dies in a car accident, and we say, “Well, he wasn’t wearing is seatbelt,” as if seat belts grant immortality. I mean, you can do everything right, and something bad can still happen to you.

As they say, no one gets out of here alive.

I guess when I don’t feel well, it’s really easy to take things personally, to forget that we all have bodies that struggle and don’t do what we want them to. We all try things that don’t work and have days or weeks (or years) we feel like quitting. We all wrestle to find the difference between the things we can change and those that lie beyond our control. Some days, most days, we have more questions than answers. Perhaps days like today weren’t meant to be inspirational, just as bodies weren’t meant to be invincible. Perhaps it’s okay to be sick and vulnerable and not know what to do next–simply because that’s honest. Perhaps the best we can ever do is live our mysteries one day at a time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Just as there’s day and night literally, there’s also day and night emotionally. Like the sun, one minute we’re up, the next minute we’re down. Our perspectives change constantly. There’s nothing wrong with this. The constellations get turned around once a day, so why can’t you and I? Under heaven, there’s room enough for everything–the sun, the moon and stars, and all our emotions. Yes, the universe–our home–is large enough to hold every bit of us.

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Trying to Give Myself a Break (Blog #234)

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This afternoon I had the intention of participating in two of Matt’s dance workshops. (He’s teaching the second one now.) However, my body had other plans. When I went to bed last night, I was itchy all over, tired. When I woke up this morning, my cough had gotten worse–dryer, deeper. I’m assuming all of this is due to allergies, perhaps a side effect of the steroid I’m taking. Either way, I’m not impressed and am writing now in hopes of getting home and going to bed as soon as possible. Since I’m teaching a private lesson in an hour, I’ll probably have to finish this later, but a start is a start. I guess some days the best you can do is go through the motions.

Yesterday during our dance lesson, Matt asked me how he could keep his feet under his body when dancing to fast music. I said, “Not to be a shitty dance instructor, but the answer to the question is within the question. In other words, when dancing to fast music, you keep your feet under your body.” Well, today when Matt asked me how I was feeling and I told him, I said, “I’m really not a good sick person. I wish I could stop whining, but I don’t know how to.” So he said, “The answer to the question is within the question–you stop whining.”

Don’t it suck when people use your own wisdom against you?

After the private lesson today, I’m looking at a three-hour drive home. Personally, I hate traveling when I’m sick. That being said, I’ve driven an entire day with a sinus infection before and have flown with a stomach flu of biblical proportions on more than one occasion, so I know that if I can fly with a virus six miles above the earth and not puke on a stranger, I can make it back to Arkansas with a cough. Really, when I start comparing this illness to others I’ve survived, it’s pretty small potatoes. What’s three hours in a car? I don’t have a fever and I’m certainly not throwing up. So even though this feels as if it’s going to last forever, it probably won’t.

Get a grip, Marcus.

Okay, it’s about time to teach.

All right, I’m back. The lesson went well, but I currently feel like death. In fact, here’s my latest selfie.

I remember getting the flu right after my first broken heart. I wasn’t out at the time, so when people asked me what happened to X, I just said our friendship didn’t work out. The downside to a lie like this, of course, is that a broken heart gets suffered alone. So this fever, body aching thing happened, and I was out for ten days. I didn’t leave the house once, just slept on the futon and watched Turner Classic Movies. And whereas I’m sure I had a virus, I don’t think the fact that it happened right after the secret breakup was a coincidence. As I think about it now, my heart was shattered, so how could my body not follow suite?

One of my favorite authors and speakers is a doctor named Gabor Mate, and he talks a lot about the connection between stress or trauma and the physical body, the fact that getting sick is often the body’s way of saying no to something the person (through no fault of their own) is unable to. Anyway, seen in this light, sickness could be seen as the organism’s way of communicating, “We can’t live like this anymore. Acknowledge your broken heart. Come out of the closet. Something’s got to change.”

I often hesitate to launch into theories like this one, since it could sound like people get sick because they are doing something wrong. (That’s what you get for being in the closet!) However, this isn’t what the theories are saying. The idea is that, for example, if a person grows up and doesn’t know about boundaries–say they’re always doing things for other people but never for themselves–then sometimes the body will develop an illness as a way of bringing attention back to the self and establishing proper relationships. It’s like an alarm saying, “Houston, we have a problem.” I realize this is a brief, unscientific explanation, but there’s actually a lot of research behind it. (If you’re interested, look for Gabor Mate’s book, When the Body Says No.)

Anyway, I’m not saying I want to rearrange my life every time I get a common cold, but since I’ve had this infection for five weeks, I am starting to wonder if my body is saying no to something. I know I spend a lot of time getting frustrated with my body–I want it to look or feel differently than it does. But I can only imagine how frustrated my body gets with me, since I’m constantly go-go-going, don’t always eat right, and don’t always sleep much. One of my friends said that once during meditation she got an image of her body wagging its finger at her, like, “You are not twenty anymore–you’ve got to take better care of us.” And maybe it’s that simple, this sickness, just my body’s way of saying, “Please rest–like for more than a weekend.

“And no, this is not our idea of resting.”

Another thing I think about is that perhaps sickness actually gives me permission to whine. Not that I think whining and complaining are good ideas, but sometimes I think they happen because there’s something else underneath them. I know that personally I spend a lot of time trying to be strong. That probably started when Mom got sick and really kicked into high gear when Dad went to prison. You’re the man of the house now. Talk about a shit job for a teenager. Anyway, now I’m thirty-seven, and it still feels like I keep my muscles slightly tensed on a daily basis because I’m waiting for something else to go wrong, something I won’t be prepared to handle. Consequently, I never can fully relax–it’s exhausting. So sometimes I think getting sick is not only a chance to rest, but also an opportunity to let my guard down, ask for help, and stop being so strong for once.

I guess we all want an explanation when we don’t feel well–this happened because of that. As if life were that simple. Obviously a lot more things play into health and wellness than can be explained in a paragraph, and even the experts say we’re just starting to get a glimpse of the mind-body connection. But I personally don’t think it has to be complicated, even if it is complex. For me getting better is starting to simply look like not demanding so much of myself, not pushing myself to heal when my body obviously needs more compassion than that. Right here, right now, it looks like finishing this blog, driving back to Arkansas, going to bed, and giving my body the rest it deserves.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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In other words, there's always SOMETHING else to improve or work on. Therefore, striving for perfection is not only frustrating, it's also technically impossible.

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Mystics Aren’t Picky as Shit (Blog #233)

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After a long day here in Springfield, it’s three in the morning, and one of Anne and Andy’s black cats is staring at me from across the room. I’m guessing she’s wondering what I’m going to blog about tonight, like I know. I swear, sometimes writing is so frustrating. Ninety percent of your time is spent staring at the wall, as if good ideas live in the sheetrock and come out when given “the look.” It honestly feels like waiting on Zac Efron to call. Like, what are the chances? But as a writer, you just keep staring at the wall, trusting that a good idea will eventually present itself, then you can spend the other ten percent of your time actually writing.

Of course, by writing I mean hitting the backspace button.

When I woke up this morning, the first thing I noticed was that god had not left a miracle of healing under my pillow. Rather, I still felt anything but fabulous, and to top it all off, the weather outside had turned cold and wet. I honestly don’t know how our ancestors survived before things like medication, central heat and air, and indoor plumbing. That being said, I used to live in an old house with gas heaters, only one of which I kept on all the time. So for months I’d come home and see my breath in the living room or trek down the hallway in the middle of the night to use the bathroom only to be welcomed by a cold toilet seat.

As if that were any way to treat a loyal customer.

Still, even though this isn’t my favorite time of year, I try to suck it up and do the best I can. This morning I threw on an extra shirt, trudged through the rain to my car, and headed out for a session with my ninja massage therapist, Rod. Well, anytime I’ve seen Rod before, he’s worked pretty deep, but today he didn’t–everything was nice and easy. I mentioned the difference when the massage was over, and he said, “I didn’t have to work deep today. Whatever you’re doing–living at home with your parents, I guess–it’s working. Your body likes it.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said. “I’m always picky as shit when it comes to my body, so maybe I focus too much on what’s wrong.”

“I mean, there’s always stuff to work on,” he said, “but from my perspective you’re doing great.”

For lunch my friend Matt and I went to a tea room across from Anne and Andy’s dance studio. Y’all, everything was flowers, chandeliers, and pink dishes. I’ve never felt so pretty in all my life. If you’re ever on Commercial Street in Springfield, you should look for this place–there’s an actual Mad Hatter’s tea party table that’s been turned upside down and attached to the ceiling! Additionally, the food’s great. Matt had a monte cristo with mushroom soup, and I had a tuna salad stuffed tomato with mushroom soup.

Since I’m on a diet, I was really proud of myself for not eating the bread that came with my meal. You know how it is when you’re on a diet, the way you get all high and mighty. You spend thirty years eating whatever the hell you want, then all of a sudden you find yourself turning your nose up at club cracker, like, I would never. Well, I guess our waitress realized I was exercising my willpower because she brought over a dessert tray that was big enough to park your car on and waved it in front of my nose. Y’all, it was filled with cakes, cookies, and macaroons of every shape and size. I swear, even eating one item would have been enough to turn Jack LaLanne into a diabetic on the spot.

It looked delicious.

Naturally, I thought about ordering half the tray, but when I opened my mouth, what came out was, “No thank you, I don’t want anything.” I don’t want anything? Y,all, I was just as surprised as you are. I spent the summer eating food truck tacos and drinking better, and now tuna salad without crackers is more than enough to satisfy me? What has happened? I mean, it’s practically winter, I’m freezing over here, and this is no time to be losing valuable body fat, and yet I’m on a diet. Where was all this willpower six months ago during swimsuit season?

After lunch Matt and I worked on Lindy Hop for a couple hours, then I took a long nap. When I woke up I felt like a new man–not perfect, but so much better than this morning. It’s amazing what sleep can do. Tonight the lot of us cleaned up the ballroom downstairs, which was used this evening for a wedding. Now it’s five in the morning, and I’m blogging on the futon, covered up with a blanket and wearing my sock cap to stay warm. My eyes are itchy from the junk or allergies (I guess), and I really, really think we were meant to hibernate at this time of year and not deal with all these irritations.

Seriously, who thought winter sinus infections would be a good addition to life?

Life doesn’t need us to boss it around.

For all the time I’ve spent poking around in the spiritual section of bookstores and attending yoga classes, I haven’t had many experiences that you could call mystical, moments of utter bliss and serenity. But I did have one such experience in that old house a couple years ago during the winter–in the middle of the night on a cold toilet seat no less. So there I was, shivering, hating it–then I just stopped. It felt like someone wrapped a thick blanket around my entire body. It’s hard to explain, but my sense was that the cold air itself was alive and holding me, not just in that moment, but in every moment of my entire life. Anyway, it seems now as if I spend a lot of my time waiting–waiting for ideas to show up, waiting on my body to look or feel better, waiting on winter to go away. Like most people, I simply assume life will be better and I’ll be happier when whatever it is happens. But clearly life doesn’t need me to boss it around. Rather, perhaps it’s waiting on me to stop being picky as shit, recognize that more things are going right than are going wrong, and remember that even during my most uncomfortable moments, I’m supported in ways I can’t even imagine.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Being scared isn’t always an invitation to run away. More often than not, it’s an invitation to grow a pair and run toward.

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Normal People Don’t Walk on Water (Blog #231)

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Okay, screw technology. I’m ready to go to bed, and the internet is slow. All I want to do is post tonight’s selfie, get in a thousand words, and call it a day–now. I swear, sometimes patience is more difficult to come by than others. Maybe I should consider becoming one of those people who honk in traffic. (You know who you are.) I never honk in traffic, perhaps because I can still picture my college psychology teacher saying, “Road rage starts at home.” But maybe honking would be a slightly more respectable way to blow off some steam than punching pillows. Either way, I’m taking my upset over one picture’s failure to load quickly as a sign that I need to calm down, perhaps get back to yoga.

It’d probably help if I didn’t drink a pot of coffee every day. At the very least, I could throw some more water down my throat. Earlier tonight in improv class, I was literally shaking from too much caffeine. I’m surprised my eyes didn’t pop out of my head–AH-OOH-GAH! Still, despite the fact that my body was about to vibrate across the room, I couldn’t string two thoughts together. My brain was like, “Nope–try again next time.” Whenever I lose my car keys, I keep looking for them in the same spot I usually put them. I always think they’ll magically appear because they’re supposed to be there! Anyway, my brain was that spot I kept going back to tonight in my search for ideas. But alas, it was empty every time.

A mind is a terrible thing to lose.

I’m quite sure the problem with both my mood and my mind is the fact that my body is worn out. I’ve been fighting a sinus infection for a month now, and I didn’t sleep much last night because I went to the doctor early this morning. Thus all the coffee to prop me up. (The nurse at the doctor’s office said, “Your blood pressure is a little high. Have you had an energy drink?”) Anyway, considering the fact that my body has been waving the white flag for a week or two now, seeing my ear, nose, and throat doctor was the right decision. That being said, I really think our bodies should come equipped with computer screens, at least a scrolling marquee to send us messages. I get that our bodies are talking to us all the time, but I for one lost my decoder ring a long time ago and would be thrilled with even a dot-matrix printout of daily instructions like, Hello, anybody home? We could use some help here! Go to the damn doctor already.

Y’all, I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a sinus doctor before, but in order to open you up and see what’s going on, they spray jet fuel up your nose. This isn’t so bad, but the jet fuel is also a numbing agent, and when it runs down the back of your throat, you can’t swallow for thirty minutes. Not that they bother to give you cup to spit in or anything. Thank god I’ve been so many times that I felt comfortable enough to take one off the supply table. I mean, what was I gonna do–spit in my hand–asphyxiate?

But I digress.

The doctor listened to all my questions and concerns about taking medication and said, “Thank you for being honest.” When I told him I was embarrassed by all the things I’ve been squirting up my nose in an effort to find an effective home remedy, he said, “Don’t be embarrassed, although there is some evidence that some of those things can be more irritating that helpful.” Afterwards, he shoved a scope up my nostrils, took a look around, and said that post-surgery, things looked fabulous. No polyps, no scar tissue–just an obvious infection that was probably eighty percent over. Still, he suggested I take some drugs to get me over the hump and back to baseline.

“It’s your call,” he said.

“Let’s do it. I’m tired of feeling bad.”

Then he said the best thing ever–and I’ve been waiting all day to put it in writing on the internet. He said, “You just caught something like any other person would. If it keeps happening, come back and we’ll discuss options, but a lot of people get sinus infections in the spring and fall that last six weeks on average. [Here comes the good part.] So don’t worry–you’re normal.”

Phew. I’m normal. My doctor said so.

This afternoon I went to a couple bookstores, picked up my drugs, then came home and took a nap before improv class. Off and on I’ve been considering this idea of being normal. It’s something my therapist has proposed on more than one occasion, to which I typically reply, “I’m not so sure about that.” As I think about it now, I guess for the longest time it’s felt like I needed to fix something because I wasn’t okay the way I was. Maybe it was chronic sinus infections, maybe it was a relationship (even if that relationship was with me). Either way, this idea that something needed to change–specifically, me–is what’s been pushing me toward all the self-help and alternative healing material over the years. And whereas I’m grateful for everything I’ve learned and don’t regret my path, it does–sometimes–occur to me to wonder, How much progress do I really need to make here? Just how perfect do I need to be?

(Just the right amount to walk on water, I suppose.)

Normal people don’t walk on water.

My mom says, “You don’t have to be exceptional every minute of every day.” To me this means that it’s okay to get sick, it’s okay to try to get better on your own, it’s okay to fail, and it’s okay to ask for help. (My mom also says, “We’re all in this together.”) What’s more, not having to be exceptional every minute of every day means I don’t have to try so hard, and I don’t have to take it as a personal shortcoming whenever I get sick. Hell, being sick is hard enough without the “I did something wrong” record on repeat. So going forward, I hope to remind myself that normal people don’t walk on water. Rather, we roll in and out like the tide. Getting sick and getting better, losing our keys (and our minds) and finding them, expecting too much of ourselves and giving ourselves a break–these are things that normal people do.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Each season has something to offer.

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