Posts Tagged ‘health’
Lost Intimacy
I have been known to wonder what it would be like if I lost my wife to some accident or illness. It seems like a morbid thought, but less macabre and not so uncommon, you might hear the phrase, “What would you do without her?”
Well, with Cyndie living in Boston, I am getting a chance to find out.
Our intent was to use FaceTime to keep in contact across the miles of distance. We’ve succeeded a couple of times, leaving the connection open while we each went about our separate business, creating a feeling of being together. It worked pretty well for that. Unfortunately, Cyndie’s schedule isn’t providing very many opportunities for this kind of connecting. More often than not, we have been spending our days out of contact. I am left to fend for myself.
It takes a toll. No doubt about it, when days go by and you don’t talk with the person who would otherwise be your most intimate relationship, there is a loss of intimacy. I find myself inclined to put up a protective barrier in defense. After a while, I don’t want to talk with her. It is so counter-productive to the ultimate goal that it seems ludicrous, but that is the natural reaction that occurs to me.
This is a classic example of depressive thinking. It is dysfunctional, but the unhealthy mind presents it as a logical, helpful defense.
If I was feeling a lack of intimacy in my childhood, and it felt natural to create a protective barrier in defense, it would explain how I now feel so comfortable with this reaction. I’ve had years of practice. It feels right, not talking to the person closest to me. My father taught me well. He was a master at shunning my mom.
It is a goal of mine to invert the pyramid of dysfunction that passes from generation to generation. I want to be healthier than my father, and I am hoping to imprint better health on my children to equip them to become healthier than me.
I need to go call Cyndie.
Minor Concerns
This is what I learned yesterday after my visit to an allergist: I respond to dust mites, an outdoor mold, and cats. It may, or may not, be triggering an asthma response. My asthma is relatively mild.
There is no longer a cat living in my house. The coming freeze of winter will end exposure to outdoor molds. There are steps I can take to control my exposure to dust mites. I can take a higher dose of control medication, half as often, to control my asthma symptoms. All things considered, my health problems are hardly serious concerns.
The controlled exposure to allergens was not difficult for me at all. I was given the back scratches and didn’t experience any severe reaction. The particular areas of irritation are visible as a reddening, which they measure to record a reading. I hardly noticed any ill effects until I was driving home. Then I started to feel a headache and for the rest of the day felt out of sorts, with some general body aches felt like the onset of illness. It didn’t help my general mood, either. I started to get kind of grouchy, but that might be more a result of the constant clamor overhead at the day-job from workers redoing the flat roof. Everyone was growing weary of the constant drone of the roofer’s radio, tuned to a station that sounded like non-stop mariachi music. But, it is probably the sudden unidentifiable booms and bangs that take the greater toll. What the heck are they dropping up there?
Most importantly, from the appointment with the allergy doctor, there is no indication of my being allergic to horses or to hay. I better get to work on the finishing touches of preparing our home for sale in the spring. Full dream ahead!
Sick System
This morning is another calm and beautiful day up at the lake. Picture perfect. It is odd to think about the comparison between the incredible serenity here as I write this, and the intense drama playing out at the same time on the east coast under hurricane Irene. It is very similar to something that is happening in the world of health and wellness related to a little spirochete or corkscrew-shaped bacteria named Borrelia burgdorferi that is the cause of Lyme disease.
Last night, Cyndie’s parents arrived for the weekend, and they brought a movie to watch called, “Under Our Skin.” It is a documentary that reveals the hidden story of the epidemic of Lyme disease occurring now that is being intentionally disregarded by a health care system and medical establishment willing to put profits ahead of people. It is shameful.
It boggles my mind that an intelligent society can fall to this level of collective depravity. Like many other despicable economic situations we have allowed to play out, corporate greed, banks and lending, farming and the food industry, oil & gas… we are letting the same thing happen directly with our health care. I guess the end result is the same. The food we have available to eat has become so processed in the last 30+ years, it is almost impossible to consume a healthy diet. It is getting increasingly difficult to afford a home or fuel for everyday life. Why not include doctor’s care and pharmaceuticals in the list of things that put individuals at risk for the profit of a select few.
My wife, Cyndie, has direct experience with Lyme disease, lending this documentary increased impact for us. She endured an undetected onset of the illness for some time, until one morning she woke up with undeniable neurological dysfunction, most notably, facial paralysis of Bell’s palsy. It took a chunk of time for the cause of her variety of ailments to be treated as Lyme disease, and when they finally did, administering long-term massive doses of antibiotics through a PICC line, she experienced significant recovery.
To this day, it is unclear whether the little bugger spirochetes still linger in her system. The bacteria can form a biofilm that serves to protect the organisms from the antibiotics. They have the ability to hide or mask themselves. The corkscrew shape allows them to drill through tissue, similar to the bacterium that causes syphilis.
Why isn’t syphilis an epidemic? Why have we managed previous illnesses like the HIV/AIDs afflictions with long-term drug treatment protocols? What is different now? Well, we now allow genes to be patented and there are huge profits available to those who control drugs and disease. Insurance companies have a vested interest in avoiding expensive long-term care. By working in collusion, doctors who stand to profit are serving on panels establishing treatment protocols. At the same time, doctors electing to treat patients outside of the unrealistic protocols that have been established, are prosecuted and their licenses revoked.
Meanwhile, there is evidence that this under-treated Lyme spirochete is turning up in the brains of Alzheimer’s victims. Why would we allow our health care system to become so dysfunctional that it allows people to suffer untreated?
There is a hurricane of illness out there, and the majority of people are unaware. It is a calm day of normal health from their vantage point.
Mental Divot
With little in the way of fanfare, yesterday marked my return to the game of soccer. I have not been cleared to play on the wood floor at the health club yet, but my physical therapist told me to give it a test outdoors on the grass. Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was whining about my exercise choice being reduced to walking? What a difference a day can make.
The game went pretty well. I enjoyed more success than I expected. The back felt fine throughout. More importantly, the release of endorphins and the moral support of teammates does wonders for my psyche. Ian has it so right, with his comments here Saturday, regarding negative framing. I have spent more years cultivating a depressed mental foundation than years seeking optimal health. It can be a challenge for me.
If you know about bearings and raceways, there is a flaw when the raceway gets ‘scored’. The raceway is supposed to be completely smooth, but with wear, or as a result of being over-tightened and maybe suffering a dramatic impact, an indent can form. Instead of the bearing freely rolling in the raceway, there will be a divot that the ball bearing will naturally settle into.
I have a well-honed divot in my mental state where my whole being –mind, body, and soul– comfortably settles if left unchecked. All the knowledge I have gained about myself in the years since identifying my depression has yet to completely remove that ‘divot’. I practice methods of keeping myself moving and am able to recognize the signs and symptoms when I am falling back into that low spot. My thoughts and words are powerful tools to direct my outcome. Having a regular dose of exercise-induced endorphins and the added bonus of positive interactions with other people, doesn’t hurt my cause, either.
It is all part of the ongoing maintenance package that is my reality. In all honesty, even writing here serves as one of the exercises I employ. When I am finding it difficult to write and create, it offers a clue for me to assess my status. When I write about my experience with depression, it helps me to process it. If, perchance, it happens to help inform and inspire others, that is a wonderful added bonus.
Thanks for reading.
I Scream
Last night, I splurged on a treat of ice cream after dinner. I garnished it with my all-time favorite topping, Grape-Nuts cereal. I must have been in a contemplative mood, because the pouring of Grape-Nuts triggered a deep sense of appreciation for how much I love that cereal on my ice cream and how much I love ice cream.
A long time ago, maybe starting back when I suffered a kidney stone, I realized I needed to be prudent about my ice cream indulgences. If I dropped my guard and let my whimsy direct my actions, I believe I would choose to have ice cream for breakfast, lunch, dinner and several snacks in between. I love the coldness of ice cream more than anything, and the texture, or range of textures, is a close second. The flavor is almost trivial, except for the fact that it provides variety, and I am all over variety. It would be a tragedy to eat so much ice cream that I become bored with it. Although, come to think of it, coffee flavor in my ice cream is one thing than can render the treat intolerable and unpalatable.
When our children were young, one skill we intended to nurture was self-control over food treats. I remember one particular incident with Julian when he asked how many cookies he could have. Our answer was in the form of a question. “How many do you think you should have?” Whether he wanted to, or not, he thought about it and made a sensible choice. From that moment on, we were able to allow him to work on managing that kind of decision himself. You don’t have to stop at just one, but there is a sensible upper limit that falls short of being excessive. There is an art to mastering the discernment and control which allows for successful functioning within that range.
For myself, regarding ice cream, I practice a strict control. There was a time in my life when I had ice cream available by the gallon in my freezer. There have also been times when I asked that it not be purchased at all for our home freezer. We have been known to substitute a frozen fruit bar to sooth my cravings. I don’t mind them, but sometimes, instead of relishing their delicacies, all I can do is notice how NOT like ice cream they are.
One thing my strict rationing of ice cream does do for me lately is it helps me really, really appreciate everything I love about the treat. Last night I allowed myself to do just that with my favorite topping and a few simple scoops of vanilla flavor in a big bowl. From the first hard bites to the latter soft mix with crunchy cereal, I wallowed in a life-time of fondness for this favorite treat.
As satisfying as that was, it also triggered a craving to have it for breakfast this morning, for lunch today, and a snack between that and dinner. It’s back to strict control for me. I love ice cream that much.
Playing Doctor
Ever since I was positively diagnosed as having asthma by a pulmonary specialist in 2008, I have been at a loss to understand it. I had no clue that the physical reality I had been experiencing was not normal health. The test data showed that my below normal lung performance improved with a dose of medication. The doctor prescribed a daily control medicine.
I started taking it as prescribed, even though I wasn’t able to clearly detect a beneficial result. I was such an unconvinced patient that my clinic prescribed a device to measure my lung volume to help me gauge my status. I used my medication through the period I was trekking in the Himalayan mountains, yet still had breathing difficulties that forced me to depart from the main group I was traveling with and descend early. After I got home, I grew weary of maintaining the routine of twice-a-day inhaler doses. I went rogue and stopped using the control medication.
After a 4 or 5 months, I got a cold that settled in my chest and never seemed to release its grip. I checked in with my clinic and they renewed my prescription for the control medication.
In my mind, I only knew of asthma as an affliction that influences its victims by way of attacks; flare ups that caused a person to struggle for breath. That is not how it affects me. A flare up for me appears slowly over many days. My lungs become inflamed, giving me a wheeze and a cough. It is not something that requires a rescue inhaler.
I stayed on that dosage routine for a few months until I again grew weary of the routine. I made the (basically uninformed) decision to quit trying to remember to use the inhaler twice a day, and cut my dosage in half by only using it once a day. Eventually, my curiosity led me to stop altogether, despite warnings on the package against doing so without consulting my doctor.
My reason for stopping the medication is that I want to find out what condition my lungs are in without any treatment. Is it the same as when I was first diagnosed, back when I had no clue my lung function was not normal? Or is it worse, to the point that I need to maintain the daily medication to be free of a chronic wheeze and cough?
So far, I am experiencing an increasing level of obvious unhealthy lung symptoms. My self-diagnosis experiment does not offer much in the way of knowing if it will stop getting worse and reach a stasis. It has been three weeks now since I stopped, and I am beginning to wonder if I will be able to tell when I am at the new un-medicated normal. Is there a bottom point to be reached? Time will tell.
What Routine?
I have taken a break from playing soccer for over a week and a half to give my sprained ankle time to heal. Yesterday, I noticed the ankle was feeling mostly pain-free and decided it should be ready to do a little running and kicking again.
When I sat for a short while last night, upon finishing a late dinner, after a very long and taxing day at work, I was overwhelmed with exhaustion. I could hardly keep my eyes open. So, my ankle feels ready to go, but the rest of me is too fatigued to give it the support it needs, especially in a return effort from injury. I elected to sleep the extra two hours and wait until Monday to start playing again.
It is amazing how much effort it takes to maintain the routine of staying fit. A little hitch in the program and it can be like climbing mountains to get back to my pre-injury regimen.
Meanwhile, each day that I delay beginning my cycling season, makes me feel more anxious about getting that passion re-started. Sometimes I wonder if I will remember how to ride a bike. I’m hoping it’s been more a function of the weather than my body’s readiness. A nice, calm, warm sunny day will do wonders for my motivation. It will be really helpful if that occurs on a Saturday or Sunday, too. The day-job is consuming a lot of the daylight hours, and most of my energy, lately.
I think I’ll just go back to remembering when I was a boy, and the oodles of free time I enjoyed, riding my bike for hours and hours of care-free fun. Wasn’t that a healthy routine? Too bad thinking about it doesn’t do anything to strengthen my legs and harden my butt to the pressure of that saddle.
I’m clinging to the wisdom that, once over that initial mountain, it is all smooth, pleasant sailing.
What routine? That routine!
Guess Work
I am stuck in the middle. I try not to be that guy that won’t ever go see a doctor, yet I hesitate to go in for every little cough or bruise. The most difficult thing about trying to be moderate about seeking professional treatment, is that you never really know whether you are making the right decision. I spend a fair bit of mental energy questioning my logic about when to make a visit to the doctor.
If I have full range of motion, and there isn’t a lot of swelling or discoloration, what is my risk? A little ice, rest, a support brace, …healing should follow, yes? It is a waste of both my time and the clinic’s time for me to go in and have them tell me to go home and put ice on it. Whatever it is I did to my hand a few weeks ago, the healing is sure taking a looong time to happen.
People have asked me if I’ve seen a doctor. “No.”
Okay, I made that first decision with relative ease. The problem comes with each successive day that passes. I guess I don’t know at what point a nagging injury deserves to be seen by a professional. Especially when it doesn’t appear to get worse. The problem is that it also doesn’t seem to be getting better. I’m stuck in the middle!
What really bums me out is that I know that college and professional athletes would have been automatically diagnosed at the first instant they noticed a problem. They would be seen by a doctor, whether they wanted to or not. No guess work for them.
I’m stuck in the middle. I wanna be that athlete that gets immediate attention from a professional, and I don’t want to go in for every little cough or bruise.
Fine Line
I woke up a couple of days ago and something seemed out of sorts. You know that sense you have before actually getting sick? There is nothing specific to point to that feels wrong yet, but you can still tell. “I’m getting sick.”
At that point, I imagine that if I had a microscopic view of myself, I would be able to see why I feel the sensation of getting sick. Before we even break out with that sore throat, or cough, or fever, there are things going on at the cellular level that we can detect, even though we can’t specifically identify.
On Sunday I became so tired in the afternoon, I fell into a totally involuntary nap, sleeping even though I had no intention to do so. My appetite has not been there at meal time, yet showed up with a vengeance at odd hours. However, Monday morning, I had no reason not to go to work. Since it was Monday, and I was going to work, I packed for the usual morning soccer games. Soccer felt like I’d aged a decade since the last time I played. Again, there was nothing specific to point to, but I felt slow, extremely tired, and enjoyed little success.
This is the time when I feel our self-talk can have greater impact. If I were to keep telling myself that I was getting sick, my body would easily oblige me. Conversely, I choose to focus my attention on the fact that days are passing and no specific symptoms of illness are materializing. Microscopically, my cells are doing what cells do to fight off any tiny invaders and everything is performing the way it is supposed to.
I believe there is a very fine line between getting sick and staying healthy when it comes to the regular onslaught of minor viral infections that we face on any given day.
For not feeling quite my normal peak healthy self lately, I must admit, I still feel pretty good. Nana nana nanna na.
Details, Details
I don’t mean to belabor the point, but a parallel discussion has me again thinking about this issue of optimal hydration. I think people who fail to recognize the value are just lulled into not paying attention, because they don’t have to.
I make no secret about my habit of watching the color of my urine to gauge the status of my state of hydration, even though the mere mention of urine is objectionable for some. What I find is, the occasion where the color appears significantly changed comes initially as a surprise. Given more thought at the time, it is almost never surprising. It is easy to deduce an explanation upon review of the previous hours, or more often, my activity and less than necessary intake from the previous day.
The point I want to make is that I get surprised by the change. I don’t notice any difference in myself during the time that I have been losing ground on my level of hydration.
It is why people can smoke for years, slowly giving themselves lung cancer. They don’t notice the harm. Humans are able to function well enough, under less than ideal hydration, that they fail to detect that they are in that state. I don’t fault anyone for choosing not to worry about something that they can’t detect. Most people would report doing just fine without ever trying to control the color of their urine. They are satisfied to wait until the triggers kick in at the next level down where thirst makes itself known.
Meanwhile, those same people will not think twice about reporting having a headache today or feeling fatigued this afternoon or having a little trouble with something they ate.
It’s not just about sports performance, people! It’s everyday life! It’s walking on errands, doing home chores, and dealing with stress. Having a full reserve of energy for whatever comes your way. Giving your body and all of its muscles and organs the resources it deserves to optimally achieve the functions it is designed to carry out.
It occurs to me that the same issue of level of attention we give to things can apply to other parts of our lives. Some of us are willing to treat our emotional lives with disdain because we feel we do just fine waiting until it gets the next level down where an issue demands our attention.
Think preventive medicine. There are a lot of little things we can do for ourselves that serve to prevent bigger problems arising in our lives. Yet there is a tendency to free ourselves from bothering with that level of detail, choosing instead to focus our energies on wrestling with the results of our not having proactively done so.
Relative Something 