Archives for category: health

I spent much of yesterday quite sick. That seems to be mostly behind me now, and the morning starts easily. I woke gently, and with the alarm, feeling very much that I would sleep longer if it were not a work day. The morning has been thoroughly routine and rather nice.

Although I was quite ill yesterday with some dreadful stomach virus or another that has been going around, by the end of the evening, quite late, I was feeling some better. I was headed to bed at that point, but paused the end of day processes after turning off the lights, just to sit quietly enjoying the sound of rain, and the sound of the wind blowing. The earlier part of the evening doesn’t stand out for me at all, just the singularly peaceful, lovely, quiet moment there at the end. I sat for some time, relaxed, content, and satisfied with life and love, listening to the sounds of the world beyond the walls, and feeling night settle in. The apartment was dark, and I opened the patio blinds to silhouette the Giftmas tree in the evening light of the walk-way lamp just beyond the patio, twinkling off the raindrop gems that covered the patio door glass. I sat, quietly, for some long-ish while, breathing, being, and enjoying that quiet moment until I noticed I had shifted from meditation to drowsiness.

One day ends, another begins; life is good.

One day ends, another begins; life is good.

The day between the morning and the night was unremarkable aside from being quite sick. I took care of this fragile vessel as best I could, and got as much rest as being sick would allow, hoping to be over the worst of it today – which has worked out nicely; I am enough better to resume normal work, I think, which is appropriate to a Wednesday. An appointment on my calendar for today turns out to be for a later date; I had read the appointment notification incorrectly, and correct my calendar, pleased to have caught the error in advance. I sip my coffee contentedly, preparing for the day. Small successes add up. I don’t quite feel great, but I sure don’t feel bad.

Begin again.

Begin again.

Sometimes it is the smallest moments of joy, the small bits of progress, that carry the day; they grow large in my experience when I linger on them, savor them, and invest in them. It’s enough.

It’s a Monday morning after a lovely weekend. I spent time in the company of friends, and tidied up my wee place after the flurry of holiday decorating; I observe a stray ornament hook on the carpet, and some out-of-place glittery stuff that I missed. I still have laundry to do.

My coffee this morning is somehow both too strong and very bitter. I am unsure what I may have done differently to get this very different result. My reaction balances gently on that moment between accepting my coffee as it is, and making a new cup; I have not decided. I continue to sip my coffee thoughtfully, and it no longer seems significant that it is not a great cup of coffee. I have moved on.

There have  been other, better coffees...

There have been other, better coffees…

Holiday preparation and shopping is generally completed. I have been enjoying the decorating, the shopping, the recipe selection and meal planning, and leisurely evenings spent drawing pen & ink holiday cards. There is no drama and no rush. Sometimes there is holiday music in the background. This morning, there is only the chiming of raindrops on the chimney pipe and bathroom vent covers and the percussion of fingers on keys.

I smile, my thoughts juxtaposing recollections of how easily my traveling partner and I share time and space together, with eager daydreams of the upcoming holiday weekend. There’s no real way to ‘do it wrong’ with us; if he comes to stay over through the entire weekend it will be wonderful, and no less wonderful if he comes and goes in whatever fashion is most comfortable for him. We’ve built something special together, and it endures whatever our momentary needs for space, time, companionship, solitude, affection or distance may be. Here, too, there are verbs involved: openness, deep listening, vulnerability, authenticity, respect, consideration, (see me sneaking the big 5 in here?), compassion, and love – love the verb, the one where each of us makes a point of treating the other well, and with our love in our actions and words. It’s quite… lovely. 🙂

Small details, moments of wonder, and taking care to treat myself well all add up to a great experience.

Small details, moments of wonder, and taking care to treat myself and others well all add up to a great experience.

My consciousness skips along, like a stone tossed just so across a pond, and I find myself thinking about fitness, diet, health, weight… here, too, I have goals, a journey, and a distance still ahead of me. I’m healthier than I had been for many years, but I am not sufficiently healthy to take such things for granted, and ideally I could stand to drop a few pounds for the benefit of overall health, and longevity – and I really would like to be around awhile longer. The holidays are not generally favored as the ideal time to start on such things – but I see it a bit differently; the holidays are part of the life I live, and as such, don’t really get excluded from being part of my experience – even my experience of managing my weight and fitness. For me, right now, it’s a pretty easy puzzle and consuming fewer calories is the puzzle piece that completes the picture, realistically [for me, at this time]. There are, again, verbs involved – and moment to moment choices. That’s where it gets more complicated, and here, too, mindfulness matters. So, step by step, choice by choice, verb by verb, I approach this ‘home stretch’ toward my goal with an eye on incremental progress over time. It’s not about “losing weight fast”, and probably for the best; the weight I lose slowly and sustainably through changes in lifestyle and habits over time tends to stay off.

I’m not unhappy with the woman in the mirror over gaining some weight back that I worked so hard to lose. There’s no follow-up on that, no excuses, no pleading or justification. I’m not upset with myself – I’m human. I’ll simply begin again. 🙂 I am very fortunate that my romantic and social relationships are of the sort that are very supportive and encouraging, and I don’t have to listen to a chorus of criticism, veiled insults, or hurtful remarks about my weight, or really any other part of my life. I live gently, and associate with people who tend to be positive and encouraging sorts of people. It probably goes without saying, but this is also a choice.

My shoulder injury impedes my ability to exercise, but I keep at it; I do my physical therapy exercises and yoga, even on days when I hurt too much to do more. My day-to-day pain is not the acute pain of injury as much as the chronic pain of… chronic pain. I do what I can to take good care of my injured shoulder, knowing that the effort is worth it. (When I finally really started caring for my ankle well, and doing what it needed most to be done, it began to heal and now I rarely have to walk with a cane, but it took years of care to get here.) The most common source of re-injury of my injured shoulder is brushing my hair; I have trouble remembering, first thing in the morning, that my right shoulder is injured – I grab my hair brush right-handed, and reach up – and ouch. Hurt again. I am considering mousing left-handed for a while, too…everything I do to ease how often I hurt that shoulder will improve how quickly it may heal.

Healthy choices are often healthy for more than one reason; the joy of carrots harvested from my garden is about more than the nutrition.

Healthy choices are often healthy for more than one reason; the joy of carrots harvested from my garden is about more than the nutrition.

My thoughts skip along further, and I find myself contemplating the conversion of life-force into dollars by way of paid effort – reimbursed verbs – and making a connection to calories. I find myself wondering how many minutes of employment equals 100 calories, and what value there may be in being more aware of that. No particular reason, it’s just where my consciousness landed for a moment, before taking flight once again. This morning, I am as a butterfly.

The word count doesn’t relevant; today has all the potential to be a lovely day. There are verbs involved. The choices matter. 🙂

This morning I am fighting off unexpected nausea. I am in more than usual pain. I am still in a pretty good mood, and mostly enjoying the morning in spite of the discomfort. It helps, this morning, that I am feeling encouraged by how yesterday evening unfolded.

Moments of encouragement or unexpected joy are some of life's most beautiful ornaments.

Moments of encouragement or unexpected joy are some of life’s most beautiful ornaments.

I left work at a good time, realizing as I walked home in more pain than usual that I had forgotten to take my mid-day Rx pain relief. By the end of the day, no surprise that I was in pain. I thought no more of it, I felt good otherwise, and it had been a productive work day. I knew I could also count on my vape pen, and medical cannabis, and I wasn’t stressed about the small miss on my medication. The battery on my vape pen flashed at me right about then, to let me know it was also done for the day. No big deal; I would just recharge it at home…

…A bit more than an hour later, and sometime after arriving home, I had determined with certainty that my vape pen’s battery had actually just up and quit. Well. In the meantime I had experienced some serious frustration troubleshooting it, and frustration being my kryptonite, here’s the part where I generally continue to talk about some serious challenge, a wrecked evening, and the efforts involved in getting a better outcome as quickly as possible… only… last night wasn’t like that. Sure, I got wrapped up in the troubleshooting of a small replaceable device that I would not be able to repair, regardless, when I could have been enjoying hanging the new wreath on the front door, enjoying a good cup of coffee or tea, having a bite of dinner, or a long hot shower… in general, I could have been taking care of me, and enjoying my evening, instead of immersing myself in some minutes of frustration. Here’s the thing, though – I didn’t wreck my evening, and neither did the frustration, and I identified the start of that damaging pattern of behavior, and put myself on pause long enough to become engaged and present in the moment I was in, and to give myself an opportunity to re-evaluate what actions would really meet my needs best, both short and long-term. No tears.

I set aside the frantic and frustrated troubleshooting. I have a back up vape pen of another brand, no problem. I ordered a replacement battery for my preferred one. I started some dinner, put on the kettle for a cup of tea, and hung the wreath on my door. I sat down to enjoy an email from a dear friend, and to enjoy a cute selfie my partner sent me earlier in the day. I took care of me, and did so with my full attention. The evening ended well. I didn’t lose my mind over some small thing, or panic because I’d missed on my medication, or frustrate myself into becoming enraged. Pretty cool.

"Welcome home" I think to myself for no obvious reason.

“Welcome home” I think to myself for no obvious reason.

This morning I am getting a slow start, and that’s okay; it’s a good morning to linger over progress, and to savor the small practices that have, over time, changed my experience so very much. Today is a good day to be the change, and to become the woman I most want to be. 🙂

Putting the week on pause for a health challenge (in this case a transient ischemic attack), however briefly, can be a powerful reminder of mortality, and the preciousness of my brief mortal life time. There’s a small hole in my Wednesday, from sometime after 1 pm until sometime around 4 pm, but I remember the head ache, and I’ve had them before, although this one was possibly the worst one.

There's a lot of ground to cover on this journey.

There’s a lot of ground to cover on this journey.

In the past I’d have spent many of the upcoming days pissed off, freaked out, and struggling with additional stress over ‘where will new damage be?’, more than ‘is there any damage?’, or just taking care of me quietly, gently, and without much fuss. I have grown, perhaps. There may or may not be ‘new damage’; it’s not relevant to taking care of me in this moment, and that is the priority for now. For now, I am making a point of stepping back from stressors, taking exceptional care of my health, gently re-committing myself to my fitness goals (particularly those around losing some weight – it’s not helping me right now to carry ‘extra pounds’), staying the course on healthy calories and managing my blood sugar on fewer of those. It is critically important that I get adequate rest, manage medication carefully, and watch my blood pressure. It is equally important that I allow myself awareness that I am okay right now, and give myself a chance to feel the relief (still here! still conscious!), and gratitude that go along with ‘thank goodness I didn’t have an actual stroke’.

My traveling partner is ‘there for me’ in so many small ways. He provides comfort and nurturing care when my health is an issue, going beyond any expectation to do simple things that he knows will be of value – like seeing me suddenly struggle to find a word I commonly use with fair frequency, noticing the panic and embarrassment on my face, and imminent tears (frustration being my kryptonite), he takes the science-based steps of providing some hints (without being mocking or discourteous), and gives me time to find the word, and once found reminds me to restate the sentence with the now-found word in it. He ensures it doesn’t become a big deal, and doesn’t tease me, or belittle me; he knows the value of words, and how tender a human heart can really be. He is patient with me. Sometimes more patient than seems reasonable. It’s a small thing, and it matters. Bigger things too, he reminds me to take these things seriously, to get medical care, to document new issues – I forget without help sometimes; it is the remnant of other damage, and he is skilled at slipping reminders into the context of conversations so that it does not feel like ‘parenting’ or in any way diminishing.

When it feels like it's all stairs, it's nice to have someone sharing the journey.

When it feels like it’s all stairs, it’s nice to have someone sharing the journey.

I feel very fortunate to have a partner on life’s journey who is so well-prepared a traveler. We’ve figured out a number of these practices together on the way – a good practice in itself since we’re each having our own experience. Love benefits from explicit boundary setting, explicit statement of limitations, frank discussion of fears, needs, doubts – and what makes it all feel better. Leaving love to guess at who I am and what I might need or benefit from has destroyed a number of potentially promising past relationships – I don’t do that now. (Well, not by intent, but sometimes by oversight – here, too, mindful awareness of self matters a great deal.)

Why yes, thank you, I shall.

Why yes, thank you, I shall.

I am okay. The week ends on a comfortable note, and the weekend ahead has some fun planned, and a bit of work – I get to brunch with a dear friend, and move the A/C into storage. I will window shop in a neighborhood I enjoy. I will take care of me. It’s a good weekend for it, and it will be enough.