Archives for posts with tag: taking care of me
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Vaxxed and Boosted

November 18, 2024 //
0

Good weekend. I woke feeling rested and alert, grateful for a wake time so reliable that setting my alarm for p.m. instead of a.m. by mistake didn’t matter at all; I woke within 10 minutes of my planned time. No stress. Very little pain. It’s a good start to the day.

At my Traveling Partner’s request, and to attempt to meet more of life’s demands more easily with less stress, I changed my weekend routine a bit. Changes in routine are ridiculously difficult for me (and this may be true for a lot of people who live with the consequences of head trauma). It’ll take some practice to get the details down such that it actually feels “routine” again. It’s fine. As I said, it was a good weekend.

Yesterday I made time to finish up my annual vaccinations. Got my RSV vaccine – I’m old enough now for that one to be recommended, so I made a point to get it. Got the second shot for the shingles vaccine, too. I don’t want shingles, and if a vaccination is going to reduce my risk, I’m definitely getting it.

I know there are a lot of people with reservations about getting vaccinated. I don’t actually understand that, except in the case of people with certain very specific health concerns that make some vaccines higher risk than the risk of exposure to the condition they protect against. I’m old enough to remember polio being a serious concern, and to have older family members who actually had polio.  Smallpox is another huge vaccine success story. Measles, too. The science is clear and convincing; vaccination is effective risk reduction against a bunch of very nasty diseases. The Army, in my era of service, was pretty non-negotiable and no nonsense about vaccines; we stood in a long queue together in basic training and got vaccinated, one by one, against everything they had a fucking shot for. lol They got no argument from me.

…I think people have forgotten how commonplace and devastating some of these diseases were…

Do I want to be first in line to take a brand new vaccine with limited medical history? Maybe not. I suppose it depends on my risk and the lethality or negative outcomes of the disease. (I was pretty eager to get the COVID vaccine.) I don’t like taking any kind of new pharmaceutical. I feel more comfortable when I know there’s a history of efficacy and that the research shows it’s safe to take. But, with that in mind, I’m definitely “pro-vaccine”, given demonstrated efficacy and safety. I’ve had the flu shot most years since I was an adult free to make my own decision about it. The years I missed it were generally about not being able to afford medical care.

Vaccination-wise you do you, of course. I’m not seeking to persuade you. I get vaccinated because I don’t like being sick. I’m just mentioning it in passing. It was part of my pleasant weekend.

It’s a rainy Monday morning. There’s a fat round full moon in the sky peeking through the rain clouds. I’m hoping for a break in the rain and a walk before work. I feel more alert and clear-headed when I get a walk in the morning. It is a practice with proven worthiness. Later, I’ll take the car to the dealership on my way to the ok office. Nothing major, just a bit of routine maintenance; a headlight went out, and I don’t feel like replacing it myself in a steady downpour (and I’m hoping to have the headlights upgraded, if possible). If this were my partner’s truck it would be a nearly effortless bulb swap that takes only a moment. My car isn’t quite that easy, and it’s a bit of a pain in the ass. I could do it, but I don’t want to. I’ve got enough other stuff on my to-do list already. It’s a safety thing though, and needs to be done promptly. So… getting it done.

Every bit of all of these things are self-care related. Self-care is important. Definitely recommend taking care of yourself!

I sigh, and smile to myself. It’s a good beginning to an ordinary Monday. It’s a short week with a long weekend ahead; another opportunity to care for myself, this time by taking a couple days on the coast to paint and reflect and walk on the beach. Another good opportunity to begin again.

The rain stops, the clouds begin to drift away. Daybreak is faint on the eastern horizon, and it’s definitely a new day. I lace up my boots to get started down my path. I’m grateful for another day to walk it.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

A Life Hack and A Practice

November 14, 2024 //
0

I left the house before dawn, and it was raining pretty steadily. It had been raining through the night. I rarely sleep in, but it’s a day I’ve planned to work from home, so waking up early wasn’t really necessary. I “slept in” 15 minutes, still waking quite early. It’s a habit more than a practice.

It’s raining…skip the walk? No; I value the routine, and it’s time well-spent thinking, meditating, or writing, anyway. “Me time”.  I dress and slip away quietly (I hope).

The life hack? Having a comfortable routine that meets my needs. By the time I reached the trailhead the rain had stopped (at least for now). Hardly seems like much of a “life hack”, but in our high distraction, “everybody wants a piece of me” world, having a healthy routine that meets our own needs is uncommon, and requires a bit of work to refine, establish, and maintain. Worth it, though. I sigh contentedly as I lace up my boots. The pale gray clouds against the night sky separate as they drift onward, revealing the stars. Beautiful. Peaceful.

The practice? Non-attachment! I could have arrived to this place in a drenching downpour, unsuited to an easy morning walk. I’d have had to make choices, what to do with the circumstances and my moment could require a thoughtful change. That’s only frustrating and annoying if I cling to expectations of a specific outcome. Choosing to practice non-attachment and commit only to healthy self-care more generally is so much less stressful than having to cope with disappointment first thing in the morning, almost before I’m completely awake.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Lovely morning for a walk, although the sun hasn’t yet risen, and daybreak is not yet here. I’m okay with that. I pull my headlamp and rain poncho out of my backpack, grateful to be prepared. I’m ready.

Time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

Where Does This Path Lead?

November 11, 2024 //
0

It’s a blustery unexpectedly mild morning after a night of steady rain, autumn in the Pacific Northwest. It’s Veteran’s Day, too, and although it is a Monday, I’m off work. The silhouetted trees sway against the gray sky in the pre-dawn darkness. It’ll be a little while longer until daybreak comes, and I’m in no hurry.

It’s been a good weekend thus far, and it’s a good moment now. Later, I’ll get some housework done, and maybe watch some anime with my Traveling Partner, if he’s not out in the shop with the new lathe. I smile in the darkness; good choice of birthday gift, and it’s good to see my partner on his feet and in the shop doing things. He’s still got quite a way to go recovery-wise, after his injury, and his surgery, but he’s getting there. I can’t walk that path for him, I can only walk my own alongside him.

The cars woosh by on the wet highway, beyond the trailhead parking. I sit quietly with my thoughts, enjoying the moment. It’s not fancy or particularly special, but it’s mine. I’m grateful for the mild morning, although I’m in tremendous pain in spite of the somewhat warmer temperature. I’ve spent autumn and winter in pain since about 1986 I guess? Something like that. This past couple of years it’s been all year, off and on, and this year so far more painful days than not. While that does generally suck, there’s not that much more I can do about it, without profoundly increasing my risk of addiction or substance abuse, or related bad outcomes, so I endure and do what I can.

One of the most important practices for enduring the pain I live with, without losing myself to it completely, is being present. Sounds simple, but takes a lot of practice. It’s easy to end up focusing on the pain itself instead of acknowledging it, doing what I can, and moving on to other elements of my experience in the moment. My results vary, but it’s definitely better than being mired in the pain of my arthritis and my headaches. So I sit in the stillness and quiet of a morning, listening to the traffic, and observing the lights of businesses and houses beyond the fields on the other side of the highway. I breathe, exhale, and relax, watching the sky slowly lighten as daybreak approaches on the eastern horizon. I write, meditate, and reflect. I enjoy the moment as it is, without giving much thought to the pain; it’s just one detail of many. Is it a perfect solution? Nope. Is it a cure? Not even a little bit. It’s just better than letting the pain become my world.

Daybreak at last. I hear the geese waking up on the marsh. I lace up my boots and grab my cane. One step at a time, I walk my path, and it’s time to begin (again).

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Feeling Good

October 31, 2024 //
0

I slept last night. I woke this morning feeling pretty good, in spite of my headache, and my arthritis (which are becoming generally non-negotiable elements of my day-to-day experience). I moved through my morning routine pretty efficiently and quietly. I took my morning medications on time without a mishap, and the rain stopped just as I got to the trailhead. Seems like a pretty good morning so far.

Yesterday wasn’t all that bad, once I got past the morning, though I had considerable difficulty staying focused on work after my Traveling Partner pinged me good morning. I would have preferred to spend the day idly conversing with him, intimate and connected. The evening, after work, was relaxed and genial. We talked and shared the time contentedly. Dinner wasn’t fancy, pretty low effort but still a tasty home-cooked hot meal. I got some basic housekeeping chores handled. We communicated easily with each other, no stress, no drama, in spite of my fatigue. It was a great time all around.

I sit with my coffee and a smile in the pre-dawn darkness, a small circle of light cast by my headlamp, set to my side on this bench, to reduce the glare while I write and reflect. I turn it off to meditate, enjoying the diffuse light of town and street lights reflected back by the cloudy sky. It’s dark, for many values of darkness, but my eyes adjust quickly and I could probably walk the trail in the dimness without my headlamp if I chose to. It’s just easier with a bit of light. I smile at the implied metaphor and let my thoughts move on.

My Traveling Partner admitted yesterday that he hasn’t been reading my blog for awhile, caught up in his own experience. I didn’t feel hurt by that, and I even understand. It does tend to explain how misaligned we’ve sometimes felt, though; he has lacked a ton of explicit knowledge of my day-to-day experience, because rather than “repeat myself”, I’ve left things unsaid that I wrote about. That was a poor choice on my part, and we’ve paid for it in frequent misunderstandings and miscommunication. Well, shit. Now I know. I’m not even annoyed; the fault is mine. I made an assumption and didn’t check in on that. Ideally, I’d have been “using my words” and trusting my beloved to alert me if he was already aware of some detail.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a good morning so far. I hope the day ahead is as pleasant. I’ve got work, and a couple things to get done to care for my partner and our home. I’m looking forward to working from home today and enjoying lunch together. I feel… good. It’s nice. It’s enough.

I look at the sky. Daybreak hasn’t come yet. It will, though, and the clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5

When Practice Has to Pay Off

October 30, 2024 //
0

So far pretty nearly everything this morning has gone at least a little bit wrong, starting with the restless night of poor quality sleep that preceded the start of the day. Realistically, I know to expect some days will be like this, and this one is certainly one of those.

I woke up on time, and even remembered the errand my Traveling Partner asked me to handle before I went to the office (getting the mail), while kindly expressing reservations about asking me to do more, out of concern for my fatigue and the amount of pain I’ve been in day-to-day. That was a pretty good start, and I would leave it there and overlook the smaller stuff (I tried), but as shit started going wrong, it got harder…

… I’d failed to lay out clothes for the work day and stumbled through my morning routine self-conscious about the noise I was obviously making…

… I spilled iced tea all over the floor while setting up my partner’s morning beverages…

…as I was picking up the mail, i dropped it into the street as I returned to the car and then shut my hand in the car door while trying to put my seatbelt on, to return the mail to the house…

… the coffee place I prefer (lowest price, best black coffee) was closed – the opening barista never showed up…

… the backup coffee stand was slow, and the coffee is pretty awful…

… traffic was bad and I got stuck behind a line of cars all stuck behind a truck going 40 mph on the highway during the commuter “rush”…

…I got to the trailhead too late to get a walk in at all (or write)…

… my medication alarm went off as I prepared to give up on my routine altogether, startling me, and my shaking hands fumbled my pillbox, tossing my entire day’s meds all over the floor of the car, much of which I never did find at all…

The drive to the office was thankfully entirely uneventful in every way. I’m not sure I could have endured another misstep this morning!

A less than ideal start to the day, for sure, and I’m “still dealing with it”, like ripples on a pond after throwing a rock into still water. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The office is quiet – and also uncomfortably cold. G’damn, what is with this day?? I sigh, and think of my Traveling Partner’s voice, saying “I’m worried about you. I depend on you. Slow down. Take care of you.” He’d be right to suggest that I slow down, although I don’t feel any sense of moving quickly, it surely couldn’t hurt to slow down and be measured and considerate with my movements, decisions, and even my thoughts.

I take the time to make a pour-over in the office break kitchen – a properly good cup of coffee will help, just by being a comforting ritual, and a pleasant moment. I remind myself, for perspective, that there will be other sunrises, other walks, and more pleasant easier other mornings – no need to take this one so personally. It definitely isn’t personal, just circumstances. Another breath, and a renewed commitment to non-attachment is also helpful. I make time to meditate, and let the morning’s aggravation fall away. It’s behind me now. I can begin again. It’s so easy to burn through limited emotional resilience in a few minutes of aggravation over small shit – and it can be challenging to restore what has been lost, but it’s for sure not impossible. I slow down, slower, and let myself have a few minutes to write and reflect and gain perspective. I breathe, exhale, and relax – and repeat as needed. I make a point to notice that I arrived at the office very much “on time” in every sense of the word, and in theory this puts the whole day back on track, aside from the spilled pills.

…No use crying over spilled milk pills…

I smile, and feel some of my tension dissolve; I’ve got a small assortment of “back up meds” that I keep in the office, mostly to ensure I don’t miss them if I forget to grab the day’s medication on my way out of the house some morning. Part of coping with a brain injury is an assortment of “tactical practices” that anticipate common challenges. My results vary – but I’m familiar with my most common “fail points”, and it’s a small thing to plan ahead for such occurences, so I do. (I mean, I try; my results vary.) My sense of “timing” still feels a little off, and somehow this cup of coffee tastes vaguely like curry (which is super weird, but fortunately I don’t find that to be an unpleasant flavor). I’m okay for most values of “okay”, and restarting the day feels within reach.

…So I do that…

It’s a new day. There are no bombs dropping on my town. There are no wildfires burning nearby. The autumn weather is relatively mild and rather pleasant. My pain seems to be at a relatively ordinary and rather manageable level today. I missed my walk, sure, but the sun will rise shortly, and the office is in a safe neighborhood; I can walk over my lunch break. I have a good sense of what I need to get done today at work, and that feels manageable, too. I make some oatmeal, sip my weird coffee, and begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, War and News of War
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »