Decade

Today marks 10 years since a tumor was removed from my spinal cord.  I have complicated feelings about it.

On one hand, I've been in pain for a decade.  Fact.  At times the pain has been just a little whisper, at other times it's been a deafening scream, generally proportional to how well I've treated myself.  When I've been eating well, moving my body, and throwing deuces to the bullshit, my pain has been ok.  When I've been mainlining Diet Coke and different permutations of flour and cheese, chaining myself to office chairs and my living room couch, and letting the nonessential become central, my pain has been all but unbearable.

At the moment, I'm closer to the latter end of the spectrum.  Not so much on the Diet Coke, but the rest of it-- the more insidious poisons-- have been standard operating procedure.  In an effort to diffuse the root causes of poor decision-making, I've been working with my therapist and listening to a wellness podcast.  One of the techniques I've learned is to break down a bad spell into smaller components and it all starts with identifying neutral facts.  So, here are some of mine.

• Sometimes it hurts to wear some pieces of my clothing
• Sometimes the first steps I take in the morning are agony from my hamstrings and foot muscles being so tight
• Sometimes my neck and shoulders are so tight and sore that it causes my face to flush
• Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and my hands are numb from the different knots or tightening in my arms and shoulders
• I can't lay comfortably on a yoga mat [as I learned about 2 hours ago]
• I can't always breathe well at night
• If I could take a vacation to anywhere in the world, I would hesitate to go because I'd be bringing this body with me, and pain is pain regardless of time zone

On the other hand, I'm grateful that I've made it 10 years.  I'm grateful my tumor was benign.  And there are many neutral facts that really sing.

• I've had 2 careers, both of which taught me many lessons, one of which has allowed me to make an actual living and help take care of my little family.
• My parents are still alive and well, and my family of origin has grown by 2 siblings-in-law, 3 nieces, and 2 nephews
• I met and married a brilliant and loving man, who brings me coffee in bed, touches my surgery scar with tender fingers, and makes me laugh every day. 
• I became a co-parent to the best and worst dog ever created, who will literally sit at my feet while I take a shit if I let her. 
• I've taken a few major risks to varying degrees of success.
• I've been utterly moved by books, movies, music, and art
• I've held onto friendships that were established long before my back was split open, and developed a few new ones, too.

All told, not a wholly bad decade, especially considering I didn't know if I would survive my surgery. I hate what I went through. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.  But it made me more empathetic, it made it a piece of cake to say 'I love you' to the important people in my life [as documented in early entries of this blog-- I think I called it 'lovebombing'?].  Another lesson that therapy clarified for me: more than one thing can be true.  We can hold space for several realities.

I don't know if I'm going to resume blogging beyond this post, so I want to make clear that I will be forever indebted to the people who extended such kindness to me 10 years ago.  Jan, Doug, Carrie, Jennie, Joey, Kelly, Andi, Denise, Mary, Lea, Steve, Adrienne, Katie, Thea, Molly, Sally, Olivia, Jill, Britt, Tony, Colleen, Andy, Laura, Ben, Sally, Buzz, everyone who sent photos for a remarkably cute 'Team Dana' slideshow, Grandma G [may she rest], Grandma M [may she rest], Pepe, Janey, Gige, Erin, and probably a lot of other people who were somehow referenced in this blog but I can't recall at the moment.  I tend to assume that most people are assholes [just because life is hard and we develop defense mechanisms] but what I went through also showed me that everyone has immense capacity for kindness.  I highly recommend this perspective.  "You're probably an asshole because you've been through some tough times, but I also believe that you can be awesome."  Give it a whirl.