The Tendency of Life (Blog #668)

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After two days of feeling like crud, I woke up feeling better today. In fact, when I woke up at eight this morning I felt so much better that I couldn’t go back to sleep for over two hours. What finally did the trick was a visualization/relaxation album I found on my music subscription service. You know–relax the top of your head, relax your shoulders, all is well in the universe, and shit like that. Anyway, I’ve pretty much felt fabulous all day–no sinus junk, more energy.

I can’t tell you how exciting this is.

I’m attributing my health’s upswing to a number of things. First, there’s a probiotic that saved the day last year when I had a three-month-long sinus infection, so I’ve been hitting that twice a day (by swabbing it up my nose) since I woke up sick Friday morning. For sinus infections, it’s seriously a miracle. Second, I’ve been taking Zicam, Airborne, and bone broth in order to support my immune system. Third, I’ve cleaned up my diet by eliminating or severely cutting back on wheat, dairy, soy, sugar, and alcohol. And not that any of this is fun (or tastes like chocolate cake), but I sure enjoy the results.

Despite feeling better, I’ve taken today easy. This afternoon I read for a couple hours, did my physical therapy exercises for my knee (I had surgery to repair my ACL last month), then took a nap. Then this evening Mom made dinner, and all of us watched the live(ish) version of the musical RENT on Fox. I say live(ish) because one of the actors, Brennin Hunt, apparently injured his foot during dress rehearsal yesterday, so most of tonight’s footage (no pun intended) was from a previously filmed dress rehearsal. Still, having an injured leg myself, I thought it was pretty cool that in tonight’s final scene (which was live), Brennin appeared not only in THE cast but also in A cast.

The show must go on!

While watching tonight’s show, I finished my very first knitting project. And whereas I wish I could tell you what it is, I can’t because it was just for practice. Still, I’m super proud of it, since it’s my first “thing,” and I didn’t drop any stitches. (Drop a stitch is knitting talk for fuck up.) Anyway, it occurred to me while I was working on this project that every stitch is important. Just drop one of those suckers, and the whole thing will be off. (I know, I dropped plenty of stitches initially and had to start all over.) Likewise, when it comes to healing, or even one’s life, everything you do counts. There’s no such thing as an insignificant action or day. Everything links together.

The idea of abundance has been on my mind today. This morning when I searched for visualization/relaxation material on my music subscription service, I noticed that one of my favorite authors, who previously had only one album on the service, now had fifty-two albums on the service. Holy crap. If I were to order just one of those albums on Amazon, it would cost eighteen dollars. That’s nearly a thousand dollars worth of material I have at my fingertips for free (or rather, for $9.99 a month). I don’t know, I guess I’m trying to see abundance where I didn’t see it before, to recognize that it doesn’t just come in dollars. It also comes in information, health, and time–time to read, time to rehabilitate and heal, and time to learn new skills.

Time to drop a stitch and start over again.

Drop a stitch and start over again. The show must go on. Recently I rewatched Bill Moyers’s interviews with Joseph Campbell, and my man Joe, while talking about facing your challenges with courage, said, “I think of grass, you know. Every two weeks a chap comes out with a lawn mower and cuts it down. Suppose the grass were to say, ‘Well, for Pete’s sake, what’s the use?'” In other words, we all get knocked down, but the tendency of life is to get back up again. That’s something I’m learning by watching and experiencing my body healing, that it wants to try again, that it wants to find balance, and–more importantly–that it can if I’m willing to help it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No good story ever ends.

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When You Experience a Setback (Blog #666)

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Tonight’s blog is number 666, The Mark of the Beast, and this morning I woke up feeling like The Beast had come to visit me in the night. That is, I woke up with sinus junk, the beginnings of–dare I say it?–a sinus infection. Whatever it is, I’ve felt crummy all day. Not absolutely miserable, but crummy–low energy, overwhelmed. That’s one of the ways I know something is off in my body, even the simplest of tasks seems too difficult to handle. Before breakfast a friend of mine came by to show me how to make kefir (a fermented dairy beverage teeming with probiotics), and when I didn’t have the right sized strainer to separate the grains (which look like cottage cheese and do the actual fermenting) from the liquid that you drink, I just about fell apart.

This afternoon I had physical therapy, which I told myself was the only thing I “had” to do today. And whereas it wasn’t fun, I survived. Then I went to the health food store to pick up and try a natural pain reliever I read about online (I can’t stay off the internet), then to Walmart to get that strainer I needed. At Walmart I also bought a gallon of water, which I’ve been drinking all day in hopes of flushing out any foreign invaders in my body. (Consequently, I’m currently getting up every twenty minutes to pee.) Then I came home, ate a quick lunch, and went back to bed.

The nap, I think, helped. I still don’t feel great, but I do feel better than I did this afternoon. This evening I’ve tried to “eat light, eat right” and take it easy. That is, I drank green tea and practiced knitting. Now I’m obviously blogging, and with any luck I can be done before long, do my physical therapy exercises again, and go back to bed.

With everything else that’s going on with my body (I just had knee surgery and have some skin and stomach issues), I’m really not amused with this sinus junk, especially since I’ve had so much trouble with my sinuses in the past. That being said, I haven’t had a full-blown infection in over a year, so that’s something to celebrate. (Insert throwing of confetti here.) And who knows how this will turn out? It’s not full-blown yet, and I’m trying a home remedy that’s worked a number of times before, so fingers crossed. Still, it’s difficult for me to not awfulize, feel sorry for myself, and imagine the worst.

In times like these, whenever my “this sucks” plate is full, I really want to throw in the towel and stop doing everything that’s good for me. I want to quit working out, quit eating a decent diet, and quit positive thinking because “none of this shit works.” It’s a childish attitude, I realize, but it’s my attitude, and it’s honest. Whenever I get overwhelmed, I want to take all my toys, go home, and eat chocolate cake. I mean, if I’m going to get sick anyway, screw you, Healthy Living.

This isn’t the way to be, of course. Just because you get sick or experience a setback (or half a dozen), doesn’t mean it’s time to give up on good habits. It certainly doesn’t mean it’s time to give up on yourself. Rather, for me, this setback is a reminder to be there for myself, to listen to my body and care for it even more than I have been. Sweetheart, we’ve been through a lot. How can I help you? In an effort to do this, I plan to use the weekend to rest, drink plenty of fluids, and–perhaps, no, definitely–clean up my diet. Because honestly, it could be worse, but it could be a lot better.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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There's a wisdom underneath everything that moves us and even the planets at its own infallible pace. We forget that we too are like the planets, part of a larger universe that is always proceeding one step at time, never in the wrong place, everything always right where it belongs.

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This Thing Called Life (Blog #563)

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Ten years ago my friends Gregg and Rita helped start The Oklahoma Swing Syndicate, a group that hosts a weekly swing dance in Tulsa, and yesterday was the organization’s anniversary celebration. Ten years–that’s over 500 community dances. Anyway, Gregg and Rita have always supported my dance endeavors, so last night I drove to Tulsa to surprise them. Y’all–talk about a good time. Not only did I get to see Gregg and Rita, but I also got to see a number of dance friends I haven’t seen in years. Plus, I got to see my 96-year-old friend Marina, who absolutely makes my heart melt both on and off the dance floor.

The dance itself lasted until after midnight, and since I’m house sitting for friends this weekend, I drove back to Fort Smith between one and three in the morning. And whereas the entire affair went well, I was exhausted both physically and emotionally by the time I got back. This morning I slept in, which helped, but today has nonetheless continued to be–well–a bitch. This last week presented a number of internal challenges–some of which I wrote about and some of which I didn’t–and I guess they all caught up with me. To put it simply, I’ve been in a foul mood–worried, nervous, tired.

For most of the afternoon, I tried all the tricks I know. I stuck my nose in a book. I tried being grateful. I went for a run. I ate a piece of cake. And whereas it all helped, it didn’t push me over the ledge into The Land of Contentment.

Sometimes you just don’t feel well.

Last October I was in Carbondale, Colorado, for a spiritual retreat of sorts. Exactly one year ago tonight I started feeling poorly. I didn’t write about it that night, but I did write about it the next morning when I woke up with what would turn out to be the beginning of a several-month-long sinus infection. For over a hundred days, I felt like shit. There were good days here and there, of course, but it was honestly the most challenging and emotionally taxing health situation I’ve encountered in all my 38 years. Even after I finally got my sinus issues under control, I got slammed with the flu twice in the span of six weeks (I think). It was one damned thing after another.

During this time, I was fortunate enough to get a new primary care physician, who–over the course of many months–put me through a series of tests, some of which were run by other doctors. And whereas it’s been a bitch of a year, things are MOSTLY figured out. My sinuses are still a little snotty, but I haven’t had a sinus infection in over six months. (I haven’t been able to say this in over twenty years.) Thanks to upping my Vitamin D and B12 and getting more consistent rest, my energy levels are better. Not “perfect,” but better. Recently I worked for ten days straight backstage for the national tour of The Wizard of Oz, and I never once worried whether or not my body would be able to “make it.” In other words, we’re learning to trust each other.

This is no small thing.

Whenever I blog and am particularly “impressed” with something that makes its way onto the page, I copy that sentence or paragraph and put it in a separate digital notepad with the intent to add it to the “Quotes from CoCo” box you see at the bottom of each post. However, I haven’t added any new quotes to the website in essentially a year. That is, until a few days ago, when I determined to get “caught up.” And whereas it will probably take a week or two to do this, I have started the process. At first, the thought of this task was daunting, but it’s turning out to be a fun, encouraging thing, going back and re-reading the highlights and self-issued hope from this last year. Today I was reminded that “No one is immune from life’s challenges,” “You’re exactly where you need to be,” and “A storm can leave your life just as quickly as it enters it.”

Our struggles unearth our strengths.

I say all this because it’s easy for me to forget how far I’ve come. I have one bad afternoon, and it feels as if I’ve gotten nowhere. But we’ll ALWAYS have bad days and we’ll ALWAYS have challenges–because this is how we grow. If I were designing a universe, I’d come up with a different method for personal improvement, but this is the way it works in this universe. Our struggles unearth our strengths. (I should add that to the quote box.) Also, I think they help us connect with others. All day I tried to get myself out of my own head. I kept telling the universe, “I want to feel better.” Then tonight my friend Marla called out of the blue to discuss a writing matter. And simply because Marla’s Marla–not because she knew I felt bad and needed cheering up–she made me laugh, laugh, laugh.

And just like that, a cloud was lifted.

It seems that this is how the universe works. It answers our prayers and cries for help, but rarely does so in the manner in which we think it should. Usually, there are other people involved. Not that your own intelligence and good graces can’t carry you so far, but when you solve all your own problems, not only do you set yourself up for pride, but you also isolate yourself. My friend Kim says, “We’re made for community,” and this is a lesson I’m learning. This last year has been an amazing journey; I’m the first to admit how much I’ve grown and how much I’ve worked my ass off to do so. But it wouldn’t have been possible without the help and support of my family, friends, my therapist and my doctors, and everyone else with whom I have the privilege of dancing through this thing called life.

For all of you, I’m extremely grateful.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Nothing physical was ever meant to stay the same.

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Closer and Closer (Blog #425)

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Believe it or not, I’ve been up since 6:45 this morning and have been going (mostly) strong for 17 hours. Now it’s just before midnight, and I’m ready to pass out. However, that won’t happen until this blog’s done, nor will it happen until I change the sheets on my bed, which my doctor told me this morning that I should do. That’s right, I have a prescription for clean sheets. Did you know you’re supposed to wash those suckers more than once every presidential term?

As some of you are aware, my health since last October has been spotty at best. For months I had a sinus infection, then caught the flu twice, and have been struggling with a rather nasty skin irritation where no one wants a skin irritation. My primary care physician, whom I saw for the first time in January, then again in February, referred me to an immunologist, the thought being that I was basically born without a full deck in terms of my immune system. So six weeks ago I saw the immunologist, who said my blood work so far was pristine. “But let’s run some more tests,” he said. “We’ll check your lymphocytes and your antibody response to two vaccines.”

So that’s what we did, the final results came in last week, and I saw BOTH my doctors this morning. First I saw my primary care physician, and we mostly talked about two things–my allergy and skin issues–and my feeling shaky. I’ll do my best to keep this simple. In terms of my allergies, she said, “Let’s get you tested to see WHAT you’re allergic too. Once we know, it may be as simple as avoiding exposure (wouldn’t that be nice?). In the meantime, get new pillows if they’re older than six months (uh, try fifteen years) and clean your sheets, since dust mites are a problem for a lot of people, and they like to live where you like to sleep. Also, here’s a new cream to try for your rash.”

Speaking of the rash, earlier she’d said, “Maybe you’re allergic to condoms.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’d have to be DOING IT for that to be the case.”

But really, I live with my parents.

Anyway, regarding my shaking, my doctor confirmed that it was benign essential tremors, which run in my family and we’d discussed before, but have been worse lately. (They’re not overly visible to anyone except me, but they’re driving me crazy.) Here she said that there aren’t a lot of good options until things get dramatically worse, but that some people have had success with CBD oil (which is derived from the cannabis plant and legal in all 50 states, Mom), so I could try that.

The only downside–it doesn’t get you high. That’s a joke. I’d be a terrible pot-head. First, I’m paranoid enough as it is. Second, pot gives you the munchies. I’m trying to LOSE weight over here, not GAIN IT.

Shit, now I’m thinking of pizza.

Otherwise, my doctor recommended a couple (more) supplements I could try and said to come back in six weeks. Feeling encouraged, I killed some time by reading a book then went to my appointment with the immunologist. I’ll get right to it–here’s what he said as he sat across from me scratching his head and poring over my numbers. “Everything looks great. I’m not sure that I’ve EVER seen anyone whose immune system responded AS WELL to being vaccinated as your did. It did exactly what it should have–and more.”

I’m quite sure I blushed. “Why, thank you. We do try.”

The immunologist went on to explain that my immune system really did look superior. “There’s nothing technically wrong,” he said, “although some people have systems that are predisposed to certain infections, which maybe yours is.” When he got up to leave he said, “On one hand, you can be proud that you have such a stellar immune system. On the other, you can be pissed off that we didn’t find anything we can fix.”

“Fabulous,” I said, “I’ll be sure to be both of those things–proud and pissed off–for at least the rest of the day.”

Leaving the immunologist’s office, I went shopping for the CBD oil and one of the supplements my primary care physician recommended. (So far I’ve taken one dose of the CBD oil, and my hands are still shaking. What the hell?) Next I had lunch with a friend, drove home, taught two dance lessons this evening, then went to Walmart to buy new pillows and thus begin The Great Dust Mite Removal of 2018. My bed sheets are drying as we speak, as are the new cotton underwear I bought, which my doctor said I should wear for the rash “to let things breathe.”

I said, “Cotton underwear don’t sound sexy at all.”

She replied, “Well since you’re not SHOWING THEM to anyone anyway, then it doesn’t matter WHAT they look like.”

Everyone’s a comedian.

My body is healthy and capable.

Now I’m trying to make sense of all that’s happened today. I think I’m mostly thrilled. It really is good news that my immune system is not only not-broken, but is probably better than yours (nanana boo boo). And having spent the last several months thinking that something was seriously wrong, I’d like to be clear–this is a huge relief. That being said, I HAVE had a lot of problems lately, and it’s frustrating that I still don’t have a concise answer as to why. Consequently, I’ve been going back and forth today. One minute I’ve been thinking, Maybe my body is a lot healthier and more capable than I’ve been giving it credit for. The next minute, What if all this shit just keeps going on forever–the doctors, the appointments? What if we never get it figured out? But mostly I’ve been thinking, What if I have to wear not-cute, old-man cotton underwear for the rest of my life? But seriously, I’m trying to trust that all these things will work themselves out, that my body still has a few healing tricks left up its sleeve, that we’re getting closer and closer to a resolution.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t play small forever.

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Breathing In AND Out (Blog #423)

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After two nights of hard partying and eating and drinking everything Nashville has to offer, I woke up feeling sick this morning. Maybe sluggish is a better word. My body was just yuck. Here’s something–I quit taking antihistamines a few days ago in an effort to “give my body a break,” so my allergies have kicked up a bit. Consequently, last night my ears started itching, and this morning my sinuses were running more than Florence Griffith Joyner in the 1988 Olympics. I thought, Perfect, I’m getting ANOTHER infection.

Of course, by perfect, I meant decidedly not perfect.

I’ve spent the afternoon trying my best to cleanse, guzzling water as if it were going out of style. I’m sure I’ll be up five times in the middle of the night to pee, but maybe in the process I can flush out all of my bad decisions. With any luck, they’ll swirl right down the pipes. Goodbye, cheese and chicken nachos. Goodbye, Blue Moon and scotch.

Blue Moon is a beer, Mom.

In addition to hydrating, I spent the afternoon helping Mallory and the gang get ready for Bonnie’s birthday party, which was this evening. Several days ago we decided on a dinosaur theme because Bonnie likes tiny dinosaurs, in part because of tiny dinosaurs we saw in Austin last year and a subsequent post I wrote about the little suckers. Anyway, I already had plates, napkins, a table-cloth, and a banner with dinosaurs on them, and today Mallory and I picked up some plastic dinosaur toys to set on the table. Later Bonnie said, “I love it. It looks like a party for an eight-year-old boy.”

Here’s a picture of the table just before the festivities kicked off. (For the foodies out there, that carrot cake in the corner was made by magic elves out of nuts, angel dust, and frosting. In other words, it was delicious. Or as I like to say, fattening.)

In order to make the dinosaur toys more festive, we gave them all party hats, some on their heads, some on their tails. (The stegosaurus got three hats on his pointy spine.) One dinosaur even got a polka-dotted collar. (In the photo below, he’s the one with the sign that says, “I heart BoYo.” BoYo is Bonnie’s nickname.) One dinosaur had a sign that said, “Happy Birthday,” but the remaining three had signs that protested growing older. The stegosaurus’s sign said, “I want my life back (now),” and the t-rex held two picket signs in his tiny arms–“Aging Sucks!” and “Down with this sort of thing.” Lastly, the long-necked dinosaur had a sign around his neck that said, “I feel fat!”

Here’s a more zoomed-in picture. Is this the cutest thing you’d ever want to see or what?

After dinner and cake, our crew played a board game, and since Mallory turned the air down (like she does), everyone had to wrap up in blankets to keep from freezing. And whereas everyone else got a “normal” blanket, I got a shark blanket, as Mallory has some strange obsession with sharks. Check it out. When the photo was taken, I’d just finished saying, “What do I do with my hands?”

Now it’s one in the morning, and I feel like a field of dandelions is blooming in my nose. I’m tired. So often these two things put together–sick and tired–make me frustrated, but in this moment, I’m compassionate. (I’ll explain.) This morning at the breakfast table, while eating a homemade waffle, I told Bonnie that although I don’t know exactly what’s going on with my body medically, to me it feels as if it’s on “high alert.” My allergies are set off at the smallest provocation, and my skin gets irritated if someone looks at it wrong. I said, “It’s like my body is mirroring my emotional state. I’ve seen so many shoes drop, most days I don’t know how to expect anything but shoes dropping. Consequently, it’s nearly impossible for me to calm down, to de-alert. If there were one message I could tell both myself and my body, it would be, ‘It’s okay, sweetie, the worst is over. You can relax now.'”

You really do belong here.

I’ve lived so much of my life waiting for shoes to drop, breathing in and just holding it, I honestly forgot that it’s possible to be steady, to not be worried or nervous all the time, to not be constantly irritated or otherwise worked-up about something. Like, no matter where you are or what’s going on, it’s possible to breathe in, then breath out, and feel completely at home and at ease. Like you really do belong here. Like life is on your side. I can’t tell you how much I want this. Better said, I want more of this, since that at-ease feeling does come occasionally and usually in the most unexpected moments. I’m talking about peace, of course, that feeling you get when you’re crying into your waffle because you’ve finally been honest about being scared all these years, finally let go a little, finally breathed out.

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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All Things Great and Small (Blog #415)

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Tonight I’m afraid to write. I can’t say why. I’ve been sitting here for forty-five minutes browsing the internet, the whole time thinking, I have nothing to say. I didn’t do shit this afternoon. I read a book and drank a cup of coffee. How am I supposed to blog about that? This isn’t the first time I’ve thought something like this. Tonight’s blog is #415 (in a row), and I honestly have no idea how I’ve managed to “fill the page” time and time again, since the details of my day-to-day life aren’t that exciting. Like I said, today I read a book and drank a cup of coffee.

Woo-who.

The book I’m currently reading is called I Contain Multitudes: The Microbes Within Us and a Grander View of Life by Ed Yong and is about all the Little Critters that live on, in, and around us. I’m a hundred pages into the book and am riveted. According to the author, there are more germs living in and on one human body than there are stars in the galaxy, although “germs” is apparently not the best term to use, since it implies bad and nasty. As it turns out, the vast majority of bacteria in the world are either harmless or beneficial. Many help break down our foods and fight off disease. Quite literally forming communities in our mouths, guts, and private areas, these bacteria can influence our moods, weight, and even our personalities. (There’s a bacteria that, in order to survive, turns some insects into lesbians! Well, at least it allows female wasps to clone themselves and therefore have no need for males, which is sort of like being a lesbian.)

Since each of us is home to so many different species of microbes, Yong contends that any one of us, rather than being “an I,” is really “a we.” Here’s how he says it: “When we eat, so do they. When we travel, they come along. When we die, they consume us. Every one of us is a zoo in our own right–a colony enclosed in a single body. A multi-species collective. An entire world.”

Isn’t that beautiful?

Since being introduced to this book recently (it was a gift), I’ve started thinking of myself as a collective, an ecosystem, a rainforest, if you will. Granted, I’ve never been to a rainforest (other than Rainforest Cafe), but I can imagine–tigers feed off their prey just as lush trees feed off decaying plants, all in a complex system of give and take, life and death. Likewise, I’m teeming with a whole universe of lifeforms, and together we’re engaged in a great balancing act. For years I’ve struggled with sinus infections but have recently seen improvements by introducing a single strand of bacteria (l. sakei) into my nostrils. (This apparently works because l. sakei keeps other bacteria “in check.”) It sounds weird, I know, but now it makes more sense than ever. It’s like the scales were tipped in the wrong direction “up there,” and I just needed one heavy hitter to help even things out.

Way to go, fellas.

What’s amazing to me is that one little bacteria (the one that started the infections) has been able to cause me so much misery and that one little bacteria (the one that ended the infections) has been able to cause me so much joy. L. sakei isn’t a panacea for all my health problems, but it truly has changed the landscape of this rainforest. So often we think of ourselves as powerless or without influence, but my God, if one little bacteria can do that–wreak havoc or bring joy–how much more can I do? How much more can you do? I think about my therapist, how knowing her has completely transformed me for the better. Four years into our work together, there’s not a relationship in my life that hasn’t improved because of her, even the relationship I have with myself (and all my microbes). It’s funny, right? I had no idea the day I met her just how much my world would change.

Now our world is more magical.

Earlier I said, “Nothing happened today. I read a book and drank a cup of coffee.” What I meant to say was, “Everything happened today. This morning my entire rainforest came to life, and this afternoon we drank a cup of coffee, and a million microbial and chemical reactions made it possible. At the same time we read a book and may never see ourselves the same again because of it. Now our world is more magical, a mysterious place where everything somehow works together, where nothing and no one is without influence, where all things great and small can make a difference.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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No good story ever ends.

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A Lighthouse (Blog #343)

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Now that my dad’s back from the hospital and is on a strict healthy-living plan, my family owns a new set of bathroom scales. (They’re the fancy kind with a digital readout, so try not to be jealous.) Y’all, if there’s anything positive about being chronically sick and having little to no appetite, it’s weight loss. This afternoon I used the new scales and found out that I’m lighter than I’ve been in four years. I’m thrilled, of course, but this news came as a complete shock. I mean, in terms of diet, I haven’t even been trying lately. I’ve been eating toast with butter and high-fructose-corn-syrup jelly for breakfast for weeks now. All those years of trying-trying-trying, and now that I’ve practically given up caring, the pounds are just sliding off. Go figure. Apparently all it takes is two rounds of influenza.

Uh–count your blessings?

Physically, I’m still worn out, but it could be a lot worse. Today I rallied long enough to do some paperwork, and I’m thinking I may get out of the house before the weekend is over. Also, I took a shower. Y’all, I hate that I consider this bragging–a little paperwork and a hot bath–but I do. God, there’s nothing like the flu on top of a chronic sinus infection to seriously lower your standards and dramatically shift what ranks as an accomplishment in your life. Hey, everyone, you better sit down for this–I bathed.

Emotionally, I have less to offer than I do physically. Yesterday I got some bloodwork back from my doctor, and today I got a message from her about it. She said my CBC results were normal and that my immunology results (which came back as “in range”) would need to be discussed with my immunologist. I’m assuming she said this because he’s the one who ordered the tests and he’s also the specialist–for a reason. At the same time, I hate having to wait an entire month in order to get any explanation at all. Lately my health feels like one of those rush-hour traffic jams caused by heavy construction or a five-car pile-up–like I’m going nowhere fast. It’s so frustrating.

If you’ve never felt this way, it’s exhausting. I don’t recommend it.

Don’t let anyone scare you straight.

I guess I’ve been exhausted for a while now. Some days are worse than others, but I’m honestly worn out by life. It feels like the universe has wadded me up and is running me back and forth across a washboard. I’ve talked to my therapist a lot about this, and recently she said, “Marcus, what are the two things I always tell you? First, don’t let anyone scare you straight. Second, whenever we are the most worn out, the most tested, that’s when something good comes along.” Then she added, “I can’t say this about everyone, but I never worry about you. I’ve never worried about you. I know something good is coming.”

Of course, I hope she’s right. The logical part of me realizes this storm can’t last forever. Still, there are days when it takes all the strength I have and then some to stay above water. On difficult days, I can’t tell you what a difference it makes to know there’s someone in your corner who isn’t judging you, someone who is believing in you and rooting you on. Whether it’s a therapist, a friend, or a family member, I think we all need that–a lighthouse–someone who stands strong in the midst of a storm, someone who helps us find our own way home.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Our shoulders weren’t meant to carry the weight of the world.

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Tough Stuff (Blog #341)

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To borrow a phrase from my sister, I feel like a bag of ass. My head hurts. My body is weak. My sinuses are a snot factory. My temperature is elevated, 99.9. Not technically “fever level.” Still, I don’t feel cute at all. If Zac Efron asked me to go out this evening, I’d be forced to tell him to come back another day. That’s how bad this is.

When will this–whatever it is–be over?

I’ve spent most of the last twenty hours in bed. Now I’m propped up in a chair, where I just ate a meal and am currently blogging. With any luck, I’ll be back in bed in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. If anyone has any medication that would knock me about for, oh, seven solid days, please leave it on my doorstep.

In other news, Dad has his heart catheterization this morning. From what I’ve been told, it took a while but went well. They put three stints in. With any luck, he’ll be home tomorrow or the next day.

I’m currently at just under two hundred words–that’s about all I have to offer at the moment. I wish I could tell you that I’m hanging in and holding strong, but I’m not. At the same time, I haven’t completely lost heart. Mostly I’m in shock. Like, This again? You’ve got to be kidding! And yet, no, life is not kidding. Sometimes it’s tough stuff. Sometimes it takes all the strength you have. Which, I hate to admit, is more than you realize.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We can rewrite our stories if we want to.

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Feeling Like Sweet Tamarind Looks (Blog #340)

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Yesterday I was worn out. This morning I woke up sick (sicker than I have been lately), and things have gotten worse as the day has progressed. (The day has progressed, I have regressed.) I’m assuming it’s a sinus infection. Unless it’s the flu again (that would seriously suck), it’s almost always a sinus infection, and–at least in my mind–I’ve been fighting a sinus infection for one week shy of five months now. Granted, it backs off now and then, but I haven’t felt like myself since the beginning of last October.

As the Post-It Note in the above photo communicates, I am over this.

This afternoon and again this evening I got out of the house to buy kimchi, since rubbing fermented cabbage juice on the inside of my nostrils is the only thing I’ve tried in the last five months that has seemed to make a remarkable and sometimes-quick difference. As I’ve mentioned before, it contains a specific strand of bacteria that is useful in fighting sinus infections, but the problem is that the bacteria doesn’t show up in every jar, or–if it does–can die off before the product itself reaches its expiration date. So it’s a crap shoot.

My search for kimchi this evening sent me, once again, to the Asian food market, which is basically like one big meat locker. I mean, it’s freezing. Even the check-out lady had a coat on tonight. Personally, I think they should turn the heater on, especially if they want people spend some time there. You know, get comfortable, look around. Of course, the heat would probably make the place smell terrible, since they have all that raw fish in there. But I digress. Tonight I noticed a new product on the shelves–next to the kimchi. It’s called sweet tamarind, and apparently it’s a fruit. I took a picture of it, since it looks like I feel.

Like poop.

Now this post is already longer than I intended. After going to the Asian food market, I stopped by to see my dad in the hospital. They are talking about doing his heart catheterization tomorrow. Dad said, “Marcus, you’ve got to take care of you. I’m here taking care of me, and you’ve got to take care of you. Go home. Get some rest.” So that’s what I’m about to do, get some rest. Mostly I’m trying to “hang in there.” Not that I have much choice in the matter, but I honestly don’t mind being sick now and then. But I’m tired of being generally sick then getting really sick every few weeks. (That’s my gripe, Lord. What’s yours?) In short, my emotional reserves are low. Still, I see the immunologist four weeks from tomorrow, and surely I can stick things out for another month. After all, I’ve come this far.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes you have to give up wanting something before you can have it.

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Me and My Body (Blog #300)

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Today Mom came home from the hospital. She walked through the front door, sat down in “her chair,” and hasn’t gotten up since. Both my sister and I have felt under the weather all day–wiped out, tired. Maybe mine is my chronic sinus problem. Regardless, we’re quite the pitiful lot. My three-year-old nephew, Ander, on the other hand, has been full of energy. Sometimes that kid is so loud, I swear he could wake the dead–or at least his sleeping uncle. I honestly think you could strap him to the top of an ambulance and tell him to scream, and it’d be just as effective as any siren. Of course, he doesn’t care that he’s loud. Nor does he care that he spilled an entire bowl of shredded cheese on the living room carpet.

Kids–not giving a shit since the beginning of time.

This afternoon while my sister and aunt were changing my mom’s bandages, Ander and I went outside to play with his scooter. Well, he played with his scooter–I decided I was too big for it. He only fell over once (we were on our way to the mailbox, then all of a sudden–plop). Thankfully, he bounced right back up, like a little ball of rubber. No kidding–children are like Tupperware–virtually indestructible. Also, boys apparently have no concept of dirt. Maybe some of the gay ones do, but I really think any boy has to start doing his own laundry before he really “gets it.” Ander kept “accidentally” falling down in our front yard, right where our friendly neighborhood gopher and the recent rain have turned what was once a lush, green lawn into a mud pit. I kept thinking, It’s going to take your mother two hours to get that stain out of your britches!

Of course, he wasn’t concerned, and when he wasn’t rolling around in the dirt, he was rolling around in the leaves, throwing them up in the air, covering himself in fall foliage and dead grass. “I’m in the leaf pile!” he’d say. “You’re uncle is tired–let’s go inside,” I’d reply.

He kept looking at me like, “Tired? I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

I spent the day reading Mind Over Medicine by Lissa Rankin, M.D. I heard about the book two or three years ago while listening to a podcast and finally picked it up at the library earlier this week. I’m not done with it yet, but the book discusses the powerful role that the mind, healthy relationships, and a positive environment can play in healing. As a medical doctor, Lissa said she used to fret when her child hurt himself. But after doing a lot of research into the body and such things as spontaneous healing, she now teaches her son that his body is a powerful healer. What I love about this idea is that if he falls down and scrapes his knee, rather than freaking out and being afraid, he says, “My body knows how to fix itself.”

To be clear–because people worry about this kind of stuff–yes, if their child got cancer or were hit by a car, they wouldn’t say, “He’ll be fine on his own,” they’d rush him to the hospital. Still, even in a serious situation, the idea is the same–the body is smart. Given the right support, it knows how to restore balance. Perhaps children instinctively understand this. Maybe that’s why they pop right back up after they fall off their scooters, unless of course we adults scare them by flipping our shit. Oh my god, are you okay!

Earlier today while doing chi kung, even before reading the book, I gave myself a hug and told my body that I trusted it. I’ve still felt like crap all day, but I think this was and is an important step in healing. Personally, I know that I’ve spent a lot of time not trusting my body, believing that it didn’t know how to fix itself, or that no matter what I tried, it wouldn’t work. Plus, I’ve spent a lot of time not liking this about my body, not liking that about my body. And yet, my body has given me every experience I’ve ever had. (Think about that–and thank your body that you can.) And it doesn’t just let me sit at this keyboard or play with my nephew–it’s watching out for me. A couple days ago I wrote about some great feedback I got from my gut, and a lot of interesting things have been happening in meditation lately (crying, letting go, stuff like that). So I’m starting to believe that my body really is on my side–it wants me to be in healthy relationships, it wants me to let go, it wants me to heal.

Now I’m thinking, We’re BOTH doing the best we can.

Tonight’s blog is number 300. That’s 300 days or nights in a row of writing. When I started this project almost a year ago, I really thought it was just about writing, about developing a discipline and working on my craft, the one I want to spend the rest of my life doing (if God and my body will let me). But somewhere along the way I realized this project is about more than writing–way more. It’s about healing. Maybe that sounds like a funny thing to say when I’m once-again sitting here feeling poorly, but I’m talking about healing deep down, about finally loving every well and broken part of yourself, about finally taking care of yourself, about knowing, really knowing, that your life has a purpose and nothing can stand in the way of it. For me, this has happened–is happening–one word and one day at a time. For this change in perspective and direction, me and my body are more grateful than we could ever say.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Perhaps this is what bravery really is--simply having run out of better options, being so totally frustrated by the outside world that all you can do is go within.

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