Gotta Go

It's sort of funny to find this old post about slowing down when I've spent the last almost couple of weeks practically in reverse. And by in reverse I mean trips to the ER, operations, mucho laying around uselessly, gobbling (i.e. following label instructions to the letter) pain meds, and sending Jonathan on his daily trip to the pharmacy. I was so in reverse I didn't even poop for a week, which resulted in two trips to the pharmacy.

I discovered a few things about myself during this hiatus from my so-called "normal" life.

1.) I am not a good patient. I do not like other people doing stuff for me, which probably stems from my whole trust issue baggage. I know I will do it the way I want it done, but can you? Hmmmmm. I'll need to think on that. In the meantime, I'll just do it myself.

2.) Only lifting things that weigh as much or less than a gallon of milk is almost impossible. Try it. Oooppp! Put that down. I'm sure your purse weighs more than that. I know my three year old does. And how the hell do you make him sit in time out without carrying him there? If he were listening then I wouldn't be in that situation in the first place. So I had to cheat.

3.) Every time I use the bathroom I feel grateful. After going to the ER the night after my surgery since I couldn't pee and the aforementioned poo issue I am glad to be able to go on my own, and to be able to go at all. So count as one of your blessings being able to use the potty on your own if you can. Not being able to is a royal pain in the you know what. This was the best example of "you don't know what you've got until it's gone" I've ever had. In my life.

4.) There is humor in even the worst situation. Although I was in the worst pain of my life (including childbirth) the night I went to the ER mere hours after my surgery because I could not manage to urinate (after chugging water all afternoon) I still sort of had to laugh. Imagine me, dying. It's 1:30 AM. We've been at the ER since 10:00 PM. Jonathan is bleary eyed watching something random on hospital satellite TV. Nurse comes to finally put my catheter in. After an embarrassing amount of tries (I really wanted to help) I suggest a that maybe someone else might want to come help. Another nurse comes in. Now I have two women peering curiously at my va-jay-jay. We give it another try or ten. No luck. A third nurse joins the group. Now here I am, dying, with three women bent over me and my delicates. Finally they get the catheter in. I fill a 2200 ml bag in thirty mins. That's around five cups. Hey, I really did have to go!

5.) The whole medical system is flooded with sick people. (duh.) I have never seen so many sick people. Billion dollar business medicating symptoms and not the root of the problem. I could hear the cash register ka-chinging every moment. My first three hours at the emergency room cost over $1300. No fancy tests, just a particularly painful I.V. and a brief chat with the doctor. It took me twenty-five minutes just to check in for my post op check. Of course, that appointment isn't until next Monday, but that's almost beside the point. I am still shaking my head in disbelief and wonder at how many people are at the hospital. We are really the most unhealthy bunch of folks. God Bless America.

6.) I want to take the best care of myself that I can. I do not want to be that grossly overweight woman trying to give blood bruised all over in a wheelchair with oxygen tubes up my nose. I can only hope the things I do help to keep me up and running for a long good time to come. You want inspiration for starting a fitness program? Head to your local hospital. Look at all the people who couldn't run a step if it were their hearts fondest desire. Then go for a damn long walk and breathe in. Eat a vegetable instead of a box of something "easy". I could talk about this forever, but will leave it like that for now. You are worth it.

7.) I am not ready to die. I have loads of unfinished business. (like making a will for gods sake) Plus lots of other things I just want to do. I want to be here to see how it all turns out. I want to see my kiddos get big and grown up. And get old with my husband so we can enjoy grandchildren, or just being on our own again. So, I think I already knew that. But thinking about your own mortality can really make you...think.

Afterword: Almost three weeks after my surgery I'm doing pretty well. Still sore, still not doing much *ahem* any heavy lifting, and contemplating going for a run since my surgeon said it was OK. Maybe tomorrow morning hmmm?

Fast Enough For Me

Isn't it funny how we all think we've got it all under control? I'm running the show here. I'm making all the important decisions. Me, the great commander of all things great and small, from the laundry and the manners and everything in between. I coordinate schedules, remember things like dentist appointments and to give the dogs their flea stuff so we don't have to buy that expensive spray again. The one in control, the boss, the big kahuna? That's me.

Yeah, right.

I really love the way the universe, or God, or what/who ever makes things go round and round and sends out life lessons always makes sure to speak up if I'm not listening. It's such a comfort to me to know that my ego has a conscience. And that I'm not the one in control of that.

I tend to not listen to myself too much. I shove my sense right down and keep on keeping on. It really doesn't matter if it's something inconsequential like having one too many cookies or pretty big like taking on so much I end up with almost- pneumonia. Which is how the universe yelled at me this week, since I clearly wasn't listening even after it spoke up loud and clear with a speeding ticket at the beginning of the week.

"Do you know how fast you were going?" she asked through my open window. "Too fast," I answered. And I was going too fast, and I knew it. But I was late, and I had to take Jonathan his phone, and get to work on time, and, and, and.

She gave me a ticket, thankfully with no points on my license. And I've been setting my cruise control ever since. It has surprised me how much pressure this takes off of my trips downtown and back. And how much more relaxed I am because I'm not constantly worried about getting a ticket or planning moves to keep speeding ahead. Sometimes the universe appears as a petite policewoman just doing her job. Just like magic. With flashing lights and everything.

And other times it appears after a tense forty-five minute wait with two antsy children in an examination room as of my kind nurse practitioner, Karen. With a patient smile she asked me, "Why did you wait so long to come in?" "I just thought I'd get better," I  answered honestly. This was after her horrified look at my throat. ("Your tonsils are HUGE!" she exclaimed. Oh. Really?) "You have infection everywhere. Have you ever used an inhaler? Haven't you noticed being short of breath?" Well, I had noticed that I wasn't breathing very deeply, but didn't really think about it. Too much going on, too much to do.

Karen left the room and came back with an inhaler and 8 sample bottles of cough syrup. Informed me if I were still wheezing on Monday that she would send me for chest x-rays. And laughed at me when I told her I had to go to work, but had the next four days off. "Oh, ho ho ho. No work for you."

Oh.

Bronchitis, strep throat, AND a sinus infection. OK, OK. I hear you universe. Definitely yelling "SLOOOW DOWN!!!" now. Easy.

And so I am taking my medicine, and resting, and not doing too much. Look at me- working on my blog even! Putting down all the burdens I took on and remembering to look when it's time to pick up my bags again on Monday. And feeling so sort of delighted that when I need it I can take care of myself. I wish I could explain how happy it makes me that these lessons are out there for me to learn, and that I will always get shown the way. That even universal screaming and yelling can make me feel so comforted and joyful.