If a friend was sharing with me their health ordeal from the past two weeks, and it exactly mirrored mine, I would tell them to listen to their bodies, take it easy and don’t be afraid to ask for help.
But, I’m me. So, I put my fingers in my ears and do a weird little “not listening” dance. Which, is funny and fine until you end up in the ER twice in one week, and the second time courtesy of an ambulance.
But, even the ambulance didn’t clue me in. I continued to ignore my body even with the paramedics standing right there telling me to get in the ambulance. I said, “Do I have to go to the ER? Because, I really didn’t want to call you guys in the first place…” He said, “Well, I can’t kidnap you….but, I highly recommend you go to the ER, and that we take you.” Luckily my dad was standing in the background mouthing JUST GO, JUST GO WITH THEM. So, I went, under silent protest, because, apparently, I’m an idiot.
My week of medical turbulence all started when I had surgery for endometriosis. It was outpatient surgery and not scary or dangerous, but it was still surgery, and I don’t know why I thought I would be fine in a day or so, but I did. Unfortunately, I had a bad reaction to pain medicine they gave me right after the surgery and was throwing up all day, so my first 24 hours of recovery were actually wrought with constant throwing up, dehydration, and a trip to the ER to get fluids and try to shut down the puke fest. You know, complete rest and relaxation, ha!
I had the surgery on a Thursday morning and taught ballet on that Saturday morning. Wait, what? I did what? Writing that out highlights to me how crazy that was, but at the time it felt so doable. I had a helper in the ballet classes and she basically did all the moving, and I just ran the class, but still, it was too much. I wasn’t listening to my body.
A couple days later, Monday, it was business as usual with Patrick going to work and me taking care of the three kids. Sure I was a bit tired earlier than usual in the day, and sure my stomach didn’t feel *great* but I was “fine.” The next day, business as usual again, I took the kids to pre-school and ran an errand afterwards with Sophia. I planned on getting so much done that day while my older two were in preschool, but my body had other ideas once I got home from that errand with my youngest. Cue faceplant, Ambulance, second trip to ER in one week, and a time for reflection on what it means to engage in self care.
One of my friends had texted me during the thick of things, but before that Tuesday face-plant, and reminded me to listen to my body. I chuckled when I read the text, thinking, duh, I know that! But, I also realized that maybe I hadn’t been listening to my body at all, not even for a minute. I joked with her that my body was telling me to “lie the F down!” and it was all laughs and jokes until the next day my body told me to “lie the F down” by face planting it on the floor. I texted that same friend the next day and filled her in, she said, “uhhhh that was your body again…listen to it!”
So, what is it with parents? Or anyone who feels like they “can’t” rest. Of course, as a parent, I put my kids first, and of course, as an intelligent human being I know that in order to be a good care taker, or parent, I have to be in good shape myself. I also understand that putting myself first doesn’t mean I’m being selfish or putting others last. But, boy oh boy, is that inner critical voice loud, and it’s telling me to suck it up, I’m fine, it’s fine, we’re fine.
I can’t take a break, I have three kids to take care of!! I can’t take a break, I need to get the house in order! I can’t take a break, I need to run these errands! I can’t…I can’t…I can’t. But, if I was honest with myself, I guess what I’m really saying is, “I won’t” and that’s kind of stupid. But man, oh man, it is a hard habit to break.
I imagine it’s hard for all people who are care takers, in any capacity, to prioritize their own health and well being. There are SO MANY jokes about moms (in particular) being sick but not getting time off, or moms trying to juggle everything or what it looks like for a mom to be sick versus a dad. Those jokes feel accurate and funny, but they also perpetuate that undercurrent of pressure to not take time off, to not put yourself first and to try to juggle everything because that’s what moms do. Cue laughter…cue faceplate…
So, I’ve been thinking alot about these couple of weeks, especially because I have alot of “free time” now that I’m on mandated “rest.” And, now that I’ve made two trips to the ER, I’ve finally decided to listen to my body and rest. Such a quick learner, ha!
But, finally, I think I get it. I guess surgery is not like a headache you can “get over” in a day or so. It’s more of a show stopper that requires intentional rest, strategies for healing and… babysitters, lots and lots of babysitters. Take all my money, babysitters!!
So, here I am, Christmas week, taking it SUPER easy at my in-laws…just what the doctor ordered. Like, literally what the doctor ordered. And you know what, I’m feeling 100 times better. My body is healing, my mood is improved, and I can actually be there with my kids and for my kids, because I don’t have to worry about that good old face-plant situation.
Cue Christmas celebrations, spending time with family, eating good food, and enjoying the week…face-plant free.