Tuesday, January 25, 2022
When I woke in the morning, the outer edge of my left foot was numb. My hip was also bothering me. I switched sides. My hip bothered me lying on that side, too. I decided the problem was coming from my back.
I stayed in bed and continued meditating on people who make me uncomfortable, either because they have declared they're uncomfortable with me without being willing to negotiate behavioral differences or people who have a horrendous view of my character. Their generic "terrible" does nothing for me. I can't even learn from them. I dedicated the meditation to the love and healing of both of us. I never do it just for me. It may have started as a moral commitment; However, I have learned it only works for me if it's for both of us.
More on loneliness: if we experience it, it must serve a function. Like shame, it warns us we're in trouble because we're not with or in harmony with our social group- both life-threatening prospects. That means loneliness and shame always lurk beneath the surface, just as pain does. They wait patiently, ready to do their thing when needed. All those feelings are our friends, not our enemies. Reminds me of that line, "With friends like you, who needs enemies?" These feelings are valid and useful. It's just that the designer didn't count on modern-day life, where these feelings don't serve us quite as well. Not that we would be better off without them. I have read recently there are families genetically unable to feel pain who survive to adulthood, even well into adulthood. However, many die young because they don't know they've been injured. Well-being requires endless vigilance. It is better to be able to feel pain than not. Likewise, it is better to feel shame and loneliness than not. As with pain, we must learn to manage those 'negative' experiences.
I got out today and vingered the weeds in my front yard with another two gallons.
When I saw my PT Terry this morning, I told her my back was out. I had tried to get an emergency appointment with my chiropractor. That was a no-go. Terry said she had an easy gentle fix for it. She had me lay on my belly and put two pillows under my left thigh. She put her right hand gently on the left side of my lower back. She had me push the thigh of my bent left leg into the pillows and push my right lower leg into her outstretched left hand. I could feel the pop.
Then she had me stand up against a wall and push my lower back against it. Now, I have done that for years. However, I assumed my back was correctly aligned. I had not known that I was out of whack to start with. No one ever gave me the feedback I needed. It was me who discovered how twisted I was when I was fifty-five. Yes, I had a chiropractor show me an X-ray with a curved spine, but no one helped me understand how this affected my posture. This was a completely different experience. I tried to walk once my back was aligned, holding that position. Now, that was interesting. Yeah, very interesting. I had to hang on to Terry for dear life. She said she wished she had met me forty years ago. How much can I accomplish now at 81? I'll work on it. Terry's not optimistic about repairing the damage I started at least 70 years ago. The chickens are coming home to roost.
I stopped off at the bank to make an appointment with their notary. Why didn't I call? I did. This branch never answers their phone or returns calls. The only way to make an appointment is to go there, sign in and wait for your turn. I was prepared. I was looking forward to the wait- a chance to read more of the Corfu Trilogy on my Kindle. The bank was empty. I didn't even get a chance to sit down. Fortunately, the bank clerk had trouble with her computer. She had to shut it down and restart it to get to her calendar. I got a few pages in. I have an appointment for next Wednesday.
I stopped at Safeway to pick up oranges for breakfast, tomatoes for my lox and bagels, a package of chicken backs, and mild salsa. My right foot gave out. Some nerve was pinched because of my hammertoe. I had been fearing this. I had a painful neuroma years ago. I could fix that by soaking my foot in ice and pulling on my toes to realign them. Mike and I hiked a trail in South Carolina. I would have to sit down periodically, take off my shoes and socks and pull on my toes. The pain of a neuroma is a scary prospect.
When I got home, my first task was separating the chicken parts and putting them in separate baggies. Separating the frozen pieces from each other was a challenge. I had to soak them in water, hoping they would defrost enough to separate them but not enough to make refreezing a problem. I think I was okay. Even with the soaking, it took all my strength to get them apart. I figured none of the chicken meat was defrosted. I would find out down the road.
I hadn't checked the bag of oranges I had grabbed. There were two in the batch that had started to rot. Okay, I'll learn.
I had adolescent D at 4:30. I signed on, but he didn't. I called and texted him. I called and texted his mom. Neither responded. This was the first time this had happened. Were they dead? Was he ghosting me? D's mom finally got back to me around 6 pm. They were with visiting family, probably at a hotel. She thought they would be home in time and forgot. She was very apologetic. We arranged a make-up date.
However, I wouldn't be surprised if adolescent D would prefer to stop working with me. I don't know what his experience with the new tutor was. "Okay," was all I got. If she took my advice and approached the situation cautiously, he may experience himself as someone with some competence. That wasn't his experience with me. When we started, he was still reading at a first-grade level. Get rid of me, get rid of the memory of himself as a non-reader. I could understand the response. It might be best for him if she can carry him the rest of the way. He would prefer to forget the old him than celebrate how far he had come. That's who he is. It's not a good way to be. But it may be the best he has to offer himself.
No comments:
Post a Comment