I didn't even think of going to Bikram this morning. I didn't even set my alarm clock. My body needed to rest. Or, at least, that's what I thought it needed. I am reasonably sure this pain is an interim step to an improved posture, but I'm also afraid of the pain. Could this transition take weeks, months, or years? That would not be fun. This has been going on since September when I was at Karin's house in Seattle. It has already been over a month. Now, that's not a month straight, but on and off. I vary between being just fine and dandy and incapacitated. The latter is not good.
After lying around all day yesterday, sleeping at night didn't come that easily. I woke at about three and only dozed until I got up shortly before 8. What a beautiful day!! There is a slight nip, clear as a bell, with a substantial breeze. Wow! Hawaii is a paradise in so many ways.
Judy's text when I woke up told me she would sleep for a while. Judy has a severely disabled grandson. He is almost two years old and functions no better than a 2-month-old. He has a genetic mutation called FoxG1, which involves severe brain anomalies. He will never walk or talk. Among other problems, he has no regular sleep pattern and cries frequently. Her son, Adam, and his wife, Jazzy, live in a separate building on the family compound. Judy sometimes takes Luke, the baby, for the night so his parents can be guaranteed some sleep. She took him last night. When I finally spoke to her, Luke had slept from 11 to 3. At 6 am, she had to drive the young family to the airport. They were taking Luke to Oahu to have an eye operation. Among other problems, Luke suffers from hypotonia. This weakness shows up in all his muscles, including his digestive tract. It also shows up in his eyes; they wander. He's cross-eyed, and he can't see a single image. The operation will allow him to see only one image by tightening those loose muscles.
I was feeling very lost and alone this morning. I could feel my heart racing. I took my blood pressure and checked my pulse. My pulse was around 90, but my blood pressure was normal. No wonder I feel like my body is pounding. I think this is fear in response to Mike's death. Mike was my shelter, my protector in the world, the one I could come home to and feel safe.
The first time he came to my mother's house for dinner in 1976, he demonstrated his desire and willingness to protect me from her attacks. I was tired and wanted to take a nap in my old bedroom. He came up to the room and set a chair at the head of the bed, facing me, and read while I slept. He had heard enough stories of her behavior to know that I would need that protection. He used to say that I was like someone who had been tortured. My mother got the message and left me alone. I got the message that one of Mike's roles in my life would be to shelter me from criticism. (Not that he thought I was always right, but he still loved me.)
My dad used to perform that function when I was a child. When I was interacting with him, my mother never attacked me. The worst was when he wasn't home; then, it was open season. Shortly before my mother died, she once said, "I didn't need therapy; I had children." I clearly understood that she relieved her anxiety by attacking us, particularly me.
It was terrifying for me when my father died when I was 15, leaving me alone and unprotected from her. Daily life is harder for me now without Mike around. Mind you, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. This is all PTSD and nothing more.
I recently heard a perfectly loving father make a statement similar to my mother's. He burst into anger when he discovered that the diaper pail hadn't been emptied. His 7-month-old son burst into tears. He was distressed because he had caused his son distress. His wife said," You have to learn to control your temper." He said, "I control it by expressing it. Then it's over." This man was able to recognize that his coping strategy harmed his poor son. My mother refused to acknowledge that her behavior could hurt us. She argued that it couldn't because she hadn't intended to hurt us. Unfortunately, my mother was a very anxious woman and had a lot of tension to release. Her children suffered as a result. She went to her death, never recognizing what she had done and accepting that we had forgiven her. She was a young soul who gave birth to two children who were older than she was at their birth.
I took a limited walk with Elsa, fearing that my leg and back would give out and I wouldn't be able to get home. But all went well. I had some twinges during the day but nothing to write home about. However, I felt the threat of a full-blown attack was a possibility. I didn't want to duplicate what I did yesterday, which was nothing. Instead, I walked the length of the house several times a day and did some of the exercises the doctor gave me. I worked on blogging most of the day. I also dozed. I was still feeling the impact of the shingles vaccination I got the other day.
Judy threatened to bring over dinner again. I told her Mike was not thrilled with the way I was eating. She said she wasn't either. Give me a break! I have veggies, meat, and sometimes carbs, and always some dessert. I told her not to bother bringing over food. I had plenty in the house. I still had the rest of the chicken back and leg I had prepared the other day and had one meal left. I also had most of the chicken she had brought over the day before, not to mention the food I still had in the freezer. I made a salad, cut little chunks of chicken off the back and legs, and put them into the toaster oven. So delicious. Crispy but not dry, and I can be sure they are thoroughly cooked.
When Judy called later that day, I reported that I felt fine, with a vestige of the pain from yesterday in my back and running down the outside of my right thigh. She suggested that I take the muscle relaxant to allow my muscles to relax completely. It did make me feel better. I don't want to take more than one a day until I'm sure my kidneys can handle the dosage.
I called the people at Floor Coverings Hawaii, who will lay the new flooring for me. I have arranged for a 2-inch-thick rubber piece to be laid down on the subflooring for starters. Problem: it will raise the level of the floor by 2 inches. Question: Can I use that material to insulate the ceiling below and drop the ceiling by two inches? Here's the problem: If used to insulate the ceiling, the joists will not be covered. Suppose the rubber material is used under the carpet. In that case, it will cover the entire floor area, including where the joists are. Question: Is there some way material could adhere to the bottom of the beams? Could someone attach the drywall to that rubberized material? For that matter, would the glue that held the rubberized material to the bottom of the joists be sufficient to keep them in place despite the extra weight of the drywall? Is it worth the risk to have the flooring level? All these questions drive me nuts. I don't know the answer, and I don't trust workers to know the answers. I'm good at thinking outside the box and considering alternatives that people with specific skills might not think of. Problem: They don't like my ideas. Very frustrating.
I finished the Very Short Introduction: Aquinas book tonight. I have discovered that Tommy Boy was not always a church favorite. All these theological arguments back and forth between various factions are silly. They are arguing over the nature of God and declaring opposing theories to be heresies and their proponents heretics worthy of death. Jesus Christ!!! Given how silly some of the arguments of the great thinkers of the Western world sound, I don't feel like such an audacious idiot putting forth my musings. What any of us has to say is only as good to the degree we help others bring coherence to their lives. If any of Aquinas' musings brought peace of mind to my dear Mike, I am his best champion.
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