In the last two years I think I've been sick more often, and worse, than I have my entire life. I blame my Saturn return, actually, as my Saturn is in Virgo and the issues its return has brought up have surrounded health, stress, daily life, and thorny issues like discipline and routine, the upshot of which is that the horrendous way I've treated my body since my early 20s is coming home to roost.
I won't go through the list of all the things that have gone wrong with me lately, or the steps I'm taking to right them; what's foremost on my mind today is a different sort of list.
It's amazing what a shift your mind can make if you simply change the language you use when talking to yourself. I had gotten to the point that I was constantly angry at my body for letting me down (not to mention enraged at myself overall for allowing things to get so far out of alignment when I know better, and have done better), but finally last week the gods said, "All right, if she's going to bitch, let's give her something to really bitch about!"
And lo, I was felled by the mighty axe of gastroenteritis.
(This is simply a fancy schmancy word for stomach flu. But it was so awful that I decided it deserved its full five-dollar name.)
I missed three days of work and spent most of it either sleeping or sending up wailing prayers to the porcelain god. Even now that things have returned mostly to normal, I am simply wiped out--I have zero energy, and would love nothing more than to crawl back under my covers and stay there another three days. I can eat, mostly, but find my appetite wavering between ravenous and apathetic.
At any rate, somewhere between lying on the bed with a heating pad on my stomach, too weak to even cry; and finally managing to eat normal food on Friday night (which I regretted Saturday, but still), I found myself feeling an unaccustomed sympathy for my poor body and all she's been through lately. This morning as I tried to convince myself to get out of bed and go to work, I patted my various body parts with my palms, saying soothing words and thanking them for hanging on, and sticking with me even though I've been such a terrible steward of our health.
Thank you, body, for recovering from this nasty badness. Thank you for not having anything worse than gastroenteritis and a sprained foot. Thank you, immune system, for doing your best to get this crud under control. Thank you, heart, for continuing to beat despite your faulty wiring. Thank you, right foot, for trying your best to pick up the slack for poor, poor left foot. She hurts a lot, and you're being a real champ. Thank you, body, for not giving up on me through every false start and "I'll do better on Monday/Tuesday/next week/Ostara." Thank you, skin, for being smooth and supple and stretching to accommodate all the extra fat I've piled on you. Thank you, fat, for doing what fat does, and cushioning and lubricating and protecting all my insides. I think it's time some of you found another purpose, though, like turning into energy, but we'll talk about that later. Thank you, hair, for being awesome. Thank you, eyes, for having great vision. Thank you, fingers, for staying so nimble. Thank you, bones, for holding me up despite the strain you're under. Thank you, lungs, for breathing even when I don't really want to. Thank you brain, for being the conductor of this soft animal orchestra.
And so, despite the fact that I continue to feel worn out and puny this Monday morning, mentally I'm in a much better place--and I'm grateful for that too.
I won't go through the list of all the things that have gone wrong with me lately, or the steps I'm taking to right them; what's foremost on my mind today is a different sort of list.
It's amazing what a shift your mind can make if you simply change the language you use when talking to yourself. I had gotten to the point that I was constantly angry at my body for letting me down (not to mention enraged at myself overall for allowing things to get so far out of alignment when I know better, and have done better), but finally last week the gods said, "All right, if she's going to bitch, let's give her something to really bitch about!"
And lo, I was felled by the mighty axe of gastroenteritis.
(This is simply a fancy schmancy word for stomach flu. But it was so awful that I decided it deserved its full five-dollar name.)
I missed three days of work and spent most of it either sleeping or sending up wailing prayers to the porcelain god. Even now that things have returned mostly to normal, I am simply wiped out--I have zero energy, and would love nothing more than to crawl back under my covers and stay there another three days. I can eat, mostly, but find my appetite wavering between ravenous and apathetic.
At any rate, somewhere between lying on the bed with a heating pad on my stomach, too weak to even cry; and finally managing to eat normal food on Friday night (which I regretted Saturday, but still), I found myself feeling an unaccustomed sympathy for my poor body and all she's been through lately. This morning as I tried to convince myself to get out of bed and go to work, I patted my various body parts with my palms, saying soothing words and thanking them for hanging on, and sticking with me even though I've been such a terrible steward of our health.
Thank you, body, for recovering from this nasty badness. Thank you for not having anything worse than gastroenteritis and a sprained foot. Thank you, immune system, for doing your best to get this crud under control. Thank you, heart, for continuing to beat despite your faulty wiring. Thank you, right foot, for trying your best to pick up the slack for poor, poor left foot. She hurts a lot, and you're being a real champ. Thank you, body, for not giving up on me through every false start and "I'll do better on Monday/Tuesday/next week/Ostara." Thank you, skin, for being smooth and supple and stretching to accommodate all the extra fat I've piled on you. Thank you, fat, for doing what fat does, and cushioning and lubricating and protecting all my insides. I think it's time some of you found another purpose, though, like turning into energy, but we'll talk about that later. Thank you, hair, for being awesome. Thank you, eyes, for having great vision. Thank you, fingers, for staying so nimble. Thank you, bones, for holding me up despite the strain you're under. Thank you, lungs, for breathing even when I don't really want to. Thank you brain, for being the conductor of this soft animal orchestra.
And so, despite the fact that I continue to feel worn out and puny this Monday morning, mentally I'm in a much better place--and I'm grateful for that too.
I think I really needed to see this today. Thanks for writing it!
Posted by: Holly | August 10, 2009 at 04:09 PM
So sorry that you've been so ill but glad to read that you are on the mend. I think your litany of gratitude to your body is something that we should all remember to do sick or well.
Posted by: Mama Kelly of 2 Witches Blog | August 10, 2009 at 05:55 PM
Compassion, compassion, compassion, that is key. Not just for your body but for the you that lives in your body. In this:
Thank you, bones, for holding me up despite the strain you're under.
I still hear blame for yourself, blame that your bones have had to do so much work, because, what, you are fat? You are fat because you are and that is where your body is now because that is where it wants to be, or that is where it needs to be; and your bones, I imagine, know that. Your body is to be trusted, believe it or not.
Compassion compassion compassion.
Posted by: Thalia | August 10, 2009 at 07:08 PM
So glad that you are on the mend. Be kind to your body and your body will be kind to you.....of course I'm one that needs to take my own advice on this. Thanks for blogging this...helps me put some things in perspective.
Posted by: Ari | August 10, 2009 at 09:39 PM
And thank you, Dianne, for this post. Something timely as I'm in the midst diagnostics hell.
Posted by: Simon | August 15, 2009 at 06:15 PM