Pups, trees, and better health

December 27, 2016

img_20161223_091955I grew up in a suburb, then went to college in a quiet rural area. But my university had around 17,000 undergraduate students, plus graduate students, faculty, and staff. It was a city unto itself. After college I moved to a city, then a different city for graduate school, then several more moves within cities. Which is why it feels so odd to be living in the suburbs again.

Five short days ago I moved to a suburb that’s a lot quieter and smaller than the one I grew up in. This will be a huge adjustment, but overall I think it will be good. Since this blog is about living with a chronic illness, here are a few ways I think it will be good for my health:

  • This complex allows dogs and there are dogs everywhere. I’ve pet many in just these few short days, including my neighbor’s new puppy! Petting dogs always makes me feel better, no matter what. And soon I’ll have one of my own!
  • Check out the view from my desk at the top of this post. It’s not as great as my old view, but from my window I can see so many trees! From my apartment I can take a walk along a path through woods, something I used to have to drive to do. This will do wonders for my emotional health.
  • It’s so quiet here. I’ve been sleeping better than I thought was possible. When I’m awake, it’s peaceful and relaxing. It’s strange, and a huge adjustment, but I find it calming and lovely.
  • No. More. Stairs. I’m on the first floor and there are no stairs to get into the building. This is amazing!
  • Easy parking. I used to feel stressed out about finding a parking space. Then I would have to carry things from my car, sometimes several blocks, just to get to my building (before dealing with the stairs.) Now the tiny parking lot is by my front door, and I never have to park very far. Bringing in groceries today was so easy.
  • Laundry is now in my unit. The last time I had that was when I lived with my parents. My guess is that laundry won’t be fatiguing anymore.
  • No traffic. I have to do a lot more driving (I can no longer walk to things or take public transportation,) but it’s much less stressful.
  • Less pollution. ‘nuf said.
  • It’s a smaller apartment. There are downsides to that, and I’m not thrilled, but I also know that on the days I’m in too much pain to walk, having a smaller apartment will be super helpful.

In time, I’m sure I will find more ways this move will be beneficial to my health. In the meantime, I’m excited to enjoy these new benefits. Now excuse me while I go unpack some more boxes….


Trying to do it “all” with chronic illnesses

December 14, 2016

It feels like everything is hard with a chronic illness. Pain, fatigue, and other symptoms affect us in ways most people don’t think about.

Walking is harder. Sitting is harder. Reading is harder. Cooking is harder. Planning is a hell of a lot harder.

Last year I wrote down goals for earning money in 2016. I didn’t succeed, but they put me on a better path than I would have otherwise been on. So I did it again for 2017. And then I did something else: I wrote down my personal goals. I’ve never done that before and it was fascinating.

I wrote down everything big. And I realized how much harder it will all be than I would have thought just a few years ago.

I wrote down the book I want to write, blogging here, improving my health including doing regular physical therapy and other exercise, getting a dog (yay!), joining a dating site (well, maybe), making new single friends (most of my friends are coupled off at this point) through attending meetup groups, and some other things I’ll be telling you about soon.

It was a really great exercise and I recommend everyone do it. It puts everything into perspective. Doing this forced me to seriously consider everything I want to do, then narrow that down to what I want most. Then I broke that down into what I need to do to make it happen. For example, in order to make new friends, I need to join some meetup groups and actually attend, instead of my usual thing of joining but then staying home. (If you don’t know about meetup.com and you want to get out of the house more, check it out! I can’t do the physical activity groups like hiking or playing frisbee anymore, so I’m joining knitting and board game groups.) And I wrote down how many times a day I’ll do physical therapy, how many times a week I’ll check in on dating sites, and so on.

And then I looked at my list, added up the time required for each thing, and thought, “No wonder I’m so overwhelmed and never feel like I have enough time to get things done!” It was great! I mean, it sucked, because I have to give up something that’s important to me. But at least now I understand that it wasn’t that I was unorganized, just that I was trying to do more than my health allows. I have fewer hours, and I need to accept that. Sure, I’ve got a lot less on my list than I would if I was healthy, but it’s still too much. I can’t go right from a date to taking a walk – I need to rest in between. I can’t make new friends unless I have the energy to go out with them, and that takes energy from other activities. I still want to hang out with my current friends, knit, read, and do other things. Plus, showering, getting dressed, laundry, washing dishes, and even eating take up a lot of energy. But I don’t have to tell you that.

And of course, I can’t assume that any of my plans will stick. I could plan to do 3 hours of stuff every Monday, and some Mondays I’ll be able to do more but others I’ll have to less or maybe nothing at all. It’s completely unpredictable.

So that’s how I find myself looking at my list of personal goals for 2017, feeling keenly aware of the ways that everything is just a bit harder with chronic illnesses.

I don’t have the answers yet, but at least I can see the problem clearly. Something’s gotta give. Ok. I accept that. Now I just need to find the answers.

What about you? Do you set personal goals? How do you find ways to fit everything in or pare down?


A little overwhelm goes a long way

November 16, 2016

I was listening to this really fantastic podcast about getting organized and it got me thinking. How much am I really trying to do?

They said that no one should have more than 7-8 projects at any given time. A project might be redesigning this web site (something I’ve thought about, but….) or knitting a scarf. That’s different than tasks, which are the small bits that make up a project, like finding a new web site theme, reading about how to transfer the site to a fancier host, finding a knitting pattern, or buying yarn.

Ok, that sounds fine. But 7-8 projects is a lot. I figured I should have less, maybe half that. April said that most people have dozens, or even hundreds, of projects on their to do lists, but most can’t handle more than 7 or 8 at a time. I knew I had a lot of projects on my to do list, but I figured wasn’t trying to do that many at once.

Or so I thought. Oh boy. I had at least a dozen. I decided to put a bunch off until later. I made a list of 8 projects, then listed out my tasks.

That was over a month ago and everything was going great. Until this week. I admit I was struggling to juggle all of those projects before, but now it just feels completely impossible. 8 is too many, but it’s hard to put any of them aside when they’re all things I either really need or really want to do.

Should I stop working on the projects that might earn me some money? That isn’t really an option. I could skip the favor that I promised I’d do for a friend. But I’m 90% done and I promised her 10 months ago. I’d really love to finish already! Or should I skip buying pants? I only have 1 pair that fits, and that might be ok in some climates, but not here in Boston.

But then I have a bigger project. I’m moving. This is a great news. I’ll be in a lovely apartment in a nice town. I’ll have all sorts of amenities and I’ll get a dog. The thing is, first I have to change my address in a million different places, sell a bunch of furniture, hire movers, get boxes, and pack! It’s overwhelming. It’s the equivalent of 3 projects.

And that’s probably why I haven’t worked on that favor I promised to help my friend with and I haven’t bought pants (though in fairness, I tried shopping for pants twice and couldn’t find anything either time, so I did try,) and I haven’t done a thing for 3 of my other projects in the last couple of weeks, either. I’m struggling to keep my head above water here.

And yet, I don’t have a full time job. My health isn’t great but it’s fairly stable right now. I don’t have a significant other or kids or even a pet to take up my time. That isn’t to say I don’t have good reason to feel a bit overwhelmed, but maybe it isn’t as difficult as it seems. Maybe I need to take a step back and reexamine things.

I have a lot going on. Appointments are taking up time and energy. But in between those, I need to find a way to fit in some of the projects I’ve prioritized. They’re on my priority list for a reason, so I need to find a way to do them. Because I know I’ll be happier when I do. And less overwhelmed and anxious.

This overwhelm and anxiety is not good for my health and I know it. It even causes me to get less done! Talk about being counterproductive.

Still, I need to be realistic. And that’s why, until I’ve moved and unpacked, I’m removing a couple of projects from my list. 8 is too many, especially if preparing to move is one of them.

But I still plan to buy pants.

What about you? Do you get overwhelmed by what seem like a reasonable number of projects and tasks? How do you handle it? How do you choose what to set aside and what to focus on? Please comment so we can give each other ideas!

Update 2 days later: After giving this more thought and considering the lovely comments by Lorna J. and Ms. Mango, I made a couple decisions. First, I’m categorizing my projects as big, medium, and small. Big is moving. Small is putting a disability-rights bumper sticker on my car. Next, I’m keeping the small ones, but I’m doing them asap and getting them off my plate. I’m moving a couple of the bigger and medium ones off my list. They’ll have to wait until later.

That leaves me with something that feels a bit more reasonable. I did one little thing today: I put the bumper sticker on my car. So little. So easy. But that sticker has been sitting on my table for months! I’m relieved to have that done! I just needed the push. Another small one is an errand that will be done tomorrow. A very large project that I’ve been working on for a while should be done by Sunday (2 more days!) at the latest. And once these things are all done, I’m not adding anything else to my list until after I move.

That will leave me with just 3 projects: moving, buying pants (unfortunately that can’t wait, but I’m going to try and do it tomorrow along with the other errand), and working on a project that I care a lot about. I’ll still have smaller things: knitting and physical therapy and cooking and other daily stuff. But the “projects” list will finally be reasonable! Thanks for the support and encouragement!


Using instinct to set limitations

October 31, 2016

Sometimes there’s no good answer to “Why can’t you do that?” It’s not as simple as “My doctor told me not to” or “I’ll be in too much pain.” Sometimes it’s a gut instinct response. I just know it’s a bad idea, even though I can’t put into words exactly why.

That’s how I feel about traveling right now. I think I can do it. I tell myself I’m ready. But when it comes to it, I feel like I shouldn’t. For a while I thought fear was holding me back. And it is. That’s definitely part of it, but not all of it.

Last weekend was a good example. I did everything “right.” I packed my bag in advance as much as I could. I took an extra adrenal supplement. I took various other supplements and medications that I thought would help. And they did. That’s why I felt horribly ill, but not so bad that I started to think death might be better. That’s the difference: I didn’t think about death.

So it was an improvement, but it still wasn’t fantastic. I felt like crap for hours, despite being super careful. I monitored and moderated my activity levels. I did everything right. But it wasn’t enough.

Last weekend’s trip involved a 3 hour drive – and someone else drove.

What would happen if I flew 5 hours? A friend wants me to visit. They’ve offered to pay for the plane ticket for me. I’d love to visit, but is it worth it? It’s a long flight. In tiny, uncomfortable seats. It could be longer if the flight is delayed. There’s time in the airport, plus getting to and from the airport. There’s the time change – a 3 hour difference.

How would I feel? Worse than after a drive? Certainly. I wouldn’t be able to bring cannabis on the plane with me, so that would make the following hours significantly worse.

In the end, though, I’d survive it. I always have. So why not go?

Because my gut tells me not to. My instinct is that I’d feel horrible for at least a few days, and by the time I started to feel more or less like myself, I’d be on the plane back home. It’s not worth it. Not now, at least.

The problem is that it’s hard to explain all of this in a way that makes sense to other people. I try, and they say I should just do it and it will be fine. I’m letting my fear stop me. I’m thinking about it too much. I should just go and have fun.

That all sounds great. But they don’t live in my body. I know my body. And I’d rather follow my instinct.

Do you have times you follow your instinct and can’t put the reasons into words? How do you explain those things to people? Please comment and share your experiences!