2 BLINDSIDED Part 2

 Yesterday felt very strange.  Unnerving me.

Will had a Moh’s surgery scheduled (for a basal skin cancer), which saw him gone from our home for about three and a half hours.  Over most of that time, I felt fine.  Then, while attending to my grooming routine, I stared into my mirror and felt a sudden sense of dependency wash over me that felt so overwhelming as to sever my connection to positive focus, leaving me feeling so fragile as to fear the vulnerable state that I’ve been in ever since sudden drops in my blood pressure, due to orthostatic hypotension, have limited my ability to get from one room to another within our home.  And as if a vessel within me had sprung a leak, my eyes filled with unshed tears, which had remained blocked behind my wall of denial ever since we received the shocking call concerning our nephew’s sudden death.  It’s as if, yesterday, Shawn’s death and my dependency became real.  To me.

Thankfully, my identification with personal fragility was short lived, as within minutes of the emergence of raw vulnerability, Will returned from the dermatologist’s office with a large white bandage covering most of his nose.  And the first thing my husband did upon entering our home was to make certain that I had water to drink (as my cardiologist said that hydration and salt were vital components to increasing my low blood pressure), leaving me feeling more acutely aware than ever before of Will taking care of me when I’d felt need to take care of him.  Within minutes of my being in Will’s nurturing presence, my anxiety transformed into a natural feeling of personal well being, and though my sense of reality remains clear, my awareness of dependency is not scaring me, because I’ve learned to live in the moment, and from moment to moment as each day goes by, I feel improvement concerning my physical recovery from lung surgery snailing forward.  As to my orthostatic  hypotension, that’s still a mystery, which is why my autonomic nervous system will be tested at Mayo on Friday. And with positive focus buoying my spirit, enough said for today.

🍎🍯🔆Annie

1 BLINDSIDED Part 1

 Over this past week, I’d thought to pen a post, every day, until, ready to write, nothing came forth, naturally, so rather than forcing my think tank to ignore the depths of my grief, I’d tap the icon closing my blog and choose to escape reality by immersing my mind in a novel by Anne Tyler.

Last week, our extended family suffered a death.

A sudden death, so shocking to all that my beloved niece, Jessica, continues to waver between total shock and utter devastation.

When reality offers a nightmare, such as Shawn’s death proves to be for our family, it’s best to peel back one layer of self protectiveness at a time, and as I loved Jessica’s husband, Shawn, dearly, that’s all I feel able to clarify, today.

👩🏻Annie

INTUITION IS ON BREAK

Over this past week, I’ve felt too preoccupied for writing to flow intuitively from my mind onto my iPad’s screen.  Hopefully, penning insight-driven posts will come to me, naturally, quite soon.

On the other hand, I continue to improve physically, though still at a snail’s pace, day by day.

Please be well and stay safe, dear friends …

Annie

TWO KNOWLEDGABLE MINDS ARE BETTER THAN MINE

 So my physical and occupational therapists conferred, after which both concurred about the cause of my low energy on Monday.  You see, having spent all day, Sunday, rooting enthusiastically for one football team after another (and seeing that my emotional reactions are rarely passive concerning competition), the bigger picture began to grow clear—

Upon reflecting over Sunday, I remembered that huffing and puffing took place, not just when going from sitting to standing but while I was cheering on the couch.  And when I say cheering, cheering is what I mean, because whenever a player gets tackled or misses a tackle, my maternal instinct feels sad for whomsoever gave away too much yardage or missed a first down.

‘Annie, while ‘actively’ watching game after game, your heart beat must have increased enough to have given your lung quite a workout on Sunday, so it’s no wonder that your breathing machine had need to rest up on Monday before feeling re-energized, again, on Tuesday.’

As you can imagine, I was quite relieved to breathe in their take, which makes such good sense—

‘Not to worry, Annie.  Overall, you continue to exhibit improvement, each time one of us comes.’

Whew!  Thankfully, their combined assessment is encouraging, for sure!

Annie

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY MAKES

I didn’t write anything, yesterday, because I didn’t feel up to snuff.  Really low on energy.

Feeling more like myself, today.

With Yom Kippur (The Day of Atonement for last year’s sins) being this week, we plan to celebrate Kol Nidre with Steven and Ravi on Wed. evening.  And then we’ll break the fast with Andi and Michael at their place on Thursday.  I’m eager to enjoy this outing for several reasons, one of which is because our destination will not be Mayo.  

I have Shakespeare via Zoom twice this week (Wed. and Fri.), so lots to look forward to between today and the coming weekend.

Yesterday, I worked with my occupational therapist, who, thankfully, offers lots of tips about conserving energy, being that I was so short of breath as to barely be able to walk four steps with my walker before seeking a chair in which I’d stayed put until need to huff and puff had relaxed.  No wonder I didn’t feel like penning a post—thinking with clarity intact demands an oxygenated brain, and it seems that, yesterday, my one lung, valiantly taking on the work of two, was just plum tuckered out.

Today, while working with my physical therapist, I doubled my best time walking (since this last surgery) before shortness of breath saw me in need of parking my walker next to one chair or another in which I’d sit down for brief amounts of time.

When it comes to resting so as to re-oxygenate my brain—

What a difference a day makes!

🙋🏻‍♀️🍎🍯🔆🌻

ROSH HASHANAH 2021

 On Monday we celebrated the first night of Rosh Hashanah, which began at sundown at which time we gladly hosted our close friends, Andi and Michael for dinner—as safely as possible.

Why do I say as safely as possible?  Because Covid is spiking, and Andi and I are both immunosuppressed.

No one with one lung (even if all boostered up) should be found anywhere near Covid.  And as several months back, Andi experienced heart failure, and as her heart still remains enlarged, she was scheduled for the implantation of a pacemaker/defibrillator, last Wednesday—and thankfully, her procedure went well, and she is resting comfortably at home.

Needless to say, neither of us prepared a holiday feast, so dinner was ordered and brought in.

As to safety, our dining room table is eight feet long and wide enough to seat two at the head and two at the foot.  Earlier in the day, while I’d coached from a chair, Will set a festive table, which, when completed, looked like royalty was about to be seated regally at both ends.

With weariness settling in, that’s all I’ll say for today except to send my best wishes to everyone in honor of our similarities and differences while the Jewish people, of which I am one, happily celebrate the birthday of the world. 🙋🏻‍♀️🍎🍯🔆🌻Annie

10 OPENING OUR EYES TO GREET ONE WONDROUS SURPRISE AFTER ANOTHER

Late last week saw us at Mayo for my chest X-ray followed by an appointment with my thoracic surgeon.  This chest X-ray, taken every two weeks, shows how much of the cavity, left by the removal of my right lung, has filled with fluid, thus far, being that our bodies, which do not like empty spaces, fill them up as naturally as they are programmed to take care of our physical needs beginning with the day of your body’s arduous trip through the birth canal (and mine).  And this miraculous self care will last until our lungs inhale their very last breaths after which your spirit and mine, which had filled our bodies with emotional reactions, will pass quietly into the afterlife of which mere mortals, such as we,  know nothing, at all, just as we knew naught of life on earth until we’d ‘passed’ from the womb through the birth canal and found ourselves born, our eyes opening to greet one wondrous surprise following another, each of which appeared between every blink … and now we both know what I think when the subject at hand is the self sufficient nature of your healthy body and mine.

🙋🏻‍♀️🔆🌻Annie

PS Though our bodies are preprogrammed to function like clockwork, our immune systems are grateful for all the help they can get from the brilliant world of medicine being that viruses, bacteria and what have you are often able to multiply more quickly than our white cells can fight infection.  And though the intelligent side of your brain and mine is fully capable of choosing healthy foods with which to nourish oneself, the limbic portion of our brains is always eager to replace fine dining with junk food that replaces the natural flow of nutrients through our vessels.

Ever since cancer decided to make a host of my lung, my respect for the natural workings of my body and for those who choose to study medicine has rocketed, and perhaps, with today’s train of thought in mind, we can more clearly see why my spirit chooses to lift my senses with thankfulness rather than with heavy thoughts, which would drag my body down.

Considering the number of times Chemo has destroyed my blood cells, so that Will found me collapsed on the floor in need of being wheeled to our car before being admitted via the ER into the hospital where transfusions were necessary before my body could function as originally designed, my gratitude for the courageous and generous nature of doctors, nurses, technicians and aides ran as deeply through my heart as did the healthy blood of donors, whom I’ll not have the pleasure of thanking for being instrumental in restoring the good health of my circulatory system, which nourishes every cell that makes my body whole.