One day last week I cried so much I had to drink tall glasses of water for the rest of the day to rehydrate myself. I cried for different things that both were and weren’t happening to me. I won’t bore you with my “stuff.” I’m sure you have your own.
I invoked Tony Robbins’ “90 second rule” — but I turned it into a four hour rule, because 90 seconds seemed a little too short for me (haha). The 90 second rule is to let yourself feel your pain, sorrow, suffering for 90 seconds.
Why do we love hospital shows so much when the reality is so not nice? That’s putting it mildly! For as long as I can remember there’s always been a medical show on the air — because doctors and hospitals bring on the drama. Unwanted drama.
I won’t dwell on boring medical blah blah, but here’s what’s happening. After five years of pain that I ignored because, who wants to pay attention to pain…I’ll be having a hip replacement this week. Not how I planned to spend the Easter hols.
New Year’s eve morning as I write this. I’ve spent the week between Christmas and today pondering the events of 2016. I’m surprised at the number of surprises I had in 2016. It was a year of surprises. And I’d like another please. I believe this is because of my new commitment to extemporaneous living, instead of planning everything out. There’s a flow going on.
Here’s my list. I suspect you had tons of surprises too. What’s on your list?
When I was young, I didn’t think anything about my body. I lived in it.
Now, I’m aware of it all the time.
I have a hip issue, a shoulder situation and a knee thing. (I don’t call them problems.) I have turned into the sometimes limping and stiff vision of my elders. Instead of cursing myself and being angry, I embrace my body and all its imperfections. I love my body. My body has brought me here. My body has given me great pleasure. My body has birthed two children. My body has played thousands of hours of tennis. It has walked everywhere, run on beaches, hiked on mountains, skied and skated. It has sailed, walked cities, strolled through museums and sat in cathedrals and concerts all around the world.
It’s been a week since I have taken to my bed. I had a blood test yesterday to determine whether it’s dengue or chinkungunya. Whatever. It all hurts. It all means I’ll be having a tough time for weeks and when it’s over, I won’t be able to so much as sip a glass of wine for six months. That brings me to May 2016. Dengue compromises the liver. [Read more…]
Greetings from Tropica, where we’re in the midst of an epidemic. My daughter got it. My maid got it. My maid’s children have it. All of her friends have it. Some of my students have it. The garage door repairman has it. Many of my friends have it. Everyone knows many people who have it. [Read more…]
It was time. I had to do it. I’m overweight. Most importantly, my blood tests didn’t tell a good story. The doctor said: off to the nutritionist with you. I dragged myself in there. Shamed. Defeated. Resigned. [Read more…]