Day by Day, Hour by Hour

My husband and I were in a long distance relationship for two and a half years before we got married. One of the best tricks we learned to keep our heads on straight was to always have our next visit scheduled before we said goodbye. Rather than wallow in how much we missed each other, this allowed us to always have something "next" to look forward to. The countdown was always in the back of my mind, until we finally saw each other in person - and then the countdown started over again.

I learned to apply this concept to my life. I always have something enjoyable planned for the horizon. Whether it's a big vacation, an aerial class, or just a quiet Sunday at the beach, there is always something I like happening in the future. Times like now, when I feel strung so thin that I can hardly cope, I am trying to apply the same thing on a micro level. The "exciting" thing can literally be getting in bed at night with ice on my knees and a heating pad on my back. It can be as minute as saying goodbye to a physically challenging (for me) patient at the end of the session. Or sitting down during a more stationary activity I have planned with a patient. Even sitting at my desk and taking a sip of my coffee after my commute to work that includes a 10 minute bus ride and 20 minute walk is a little task I can grasp onto to get me through that walk regardless of a stomach ache or a sharp pain in my SI joint. 

This method of getting by is as relevant now as it will ever be. My schedule for August and September includes 17 medical appointments (including regular PT) so far, and the number keeps growing as each physician makes a new referral or requests a follow-up. This is on top of working full time in a physically and mentally demanding job, and includes making up any hours I miss as a result of my appointments. August and September are also months of plenty of visitors, guests, and other social activities that demand attention and scheduling. 


Needless to say, I am overwhelmed. I am exhausted. I am still mentally and physically drained from my 8 days without anti inflammatories and my month of terrible GI symptoms. Frankly, I just don't feel well. I'm feeling frequent waves of nausea, wooziness, and cold sweats on top of the increased pain and headaches and stomach aches and fatigue.

This flurry of medical appointments is extremely important, though. In September, I turn 26 years old, which means at the end of that month I will no longer be permitted to remain on my parents' healthcare plan. My family reached our deductible early, so I actually have a wonderful opportunity to have any and all healthcare covered without paying a cent for these couple months. As I stare my very-near-future healthcare costs in the big, ugly face, I recognize how fortunate I am to be able to receive this care and attend all these appointments. Still, knowing that these appointments are necessary and helpful for me does not make me any less exhausted and overwhelmed. 

As a reformed perfectionist, I am accustomed to making lists and staring at calendars - both of which I have done this week in full force to manage my stress and stay on top of all my obligations through my hazy fatigue glasses. What I am not as good at is taking it day by day. I make my lists, but then I keep staring at the lists and thinking about the lists and realizing I have something to add to the list as I try to fall asleep. So while I obviously need to pay attention to the big picture, it can be overwhelming and even sometimes depressing. 

Instead, when I am in this state of extreme exhaustion, I am trying to focus on just getting through the day. I find myself clinging to my daily countdown - 5 patients until lunch, then just 4 more to get through in the afternoon; 3 patients between now and my favorite baby; 2 more patients before the patient who always comes late, meaning I can catch my breath for a second; 1 more patient until I go home and ice and heat and collapse on the couch. Ten more steps and I can take off my knee braces. One more water bottle refill and then I can lay in bed until the morning. Three more appointments this week before I get to enjoy some time with friends on the weekend. One last car ride and I can take off my SI belt for the night. Two more phone calls and then I can cross tasks off my list. One more minute and my husband will get home and help hold me together. 

I am clinging to the small parts of my day to look forward to, because otherwise, I fear I will break down in more than just my connective tissue. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Revival - Concussion, not-Hernia, and CSF Leaks

Since I last wrote a blog post, the world feels as though it has gone into a total meltdown. COVID-19 continues to rage around the globe, even as the first batch of vaccines is rolled out to healthcare workers on the front lines. Party tensions run high in the US government and trickle down to the public daily. Global climate change brought another year of extreme storms and draughts across the world. And inequality continues to rage through even the reportedly "civilized" corners of the world. Meanwhile, I have gone into a physical meltdown. Family and my therapist maintain that I have not been the same since I sustained a concussion at work in November 2019. This was my third concussion, and I was out of work recovering for 6 months. I finally returned to work in May 2020 during the chaos of a global pandemic and spent 1 month treating through telehealth followed by another 3 months treating a full caseload primarily in person wearing full personal protective equipment.  Th...
Read more

Grounding myself

I am terrified that I won’t fly again. There. I said it. My neck has been getting worse, as have my headaches, random dizzy spells, and sensations of pressure in my head. I have never had an upright MRI, so I do not know what exactly is going on in my head and neck region. But while I search for a neurologist or neurosurgeon to help me out right now, I DO know that I do not feel safe during sudden movements or certain changes in position. Hitting a pothole while driving can be agony. Tripping over a sidewalk crack while walking can give me a 3-day-long headache increase. Bending down to the bottom shelf of the fridge can send me almost to the floor. So how can I even dream of climbing 20 feet up to the top of silks, hanging upside down while setting up a move, then letting go and completing a drop? And yet I do. I dream. Awake, I dream of aerial. Asleep, my nightmares reflect the stress and fear that my neck may be as bad as it feels. But awake, with my eyes cl...
Read more

Functionally Dysfunctional

Image
“Yo ur autonomic testing was pretty bad. I don’t understand how you’re so functional.” These words were spoken to me by my dysautonomia specialist this week. And they were so validating. Not because I want to have a dysfunctional autonomic system. Believe me, having a “normal” body is what I want most in this world right now. But because I put in so much work to stay this functional. And I couldn’t do it without this wonderful doctor, who truly sees me, understands my suffering, and actively helps me find solutions. But then he pointed out to me, “you must be pushing past your limits.” And that was equally true and validating. People see me push past my limits when I climb mountains, or hang on an aerial hoop, or go to work straight off an international flight spent vomiting from food poisoning. But people don’t see that I constantly exist on the edge of a crash. I pull myself out of bed and drive to work each morning, taking handfuls of prescribed medicatio...
Read more