Tell Me Something Good

Warning:  The following is replete with gripes, wails and whining.  

So it all began in June of 2019.   I thought it was a groin sprain/strain/pull -- whatever the difference is  -- THAT!  Very painful,   Limiting.  Annoying.  But I dismissed it as my fault for neglecting to properly warm up before a gym workout.  Surely that's what it was.  My bad.  My fault.  So let's just Google this sucker and figure out how to fix it.  Rest, icing, gentle stretches.  Even tried an awesome groin brace that you wrap around the hips with an adjustable wrap for the groin/thigh area.  Noticeably less discomfort when wearing that thing, but I obviously couldn't wear it to work.  Only leisurely and when attempting to walk.  Gym workouts were out of the question (INSERT ENORMOUS WHINE HERE.)

Weeks, then months passed with not a lot of improvement.  Some days the pain was worse.  I just assumed I had overdone it, maybe walking too fast, or too long, or uphill, or upstairs, or maybe just on my feet for too long ... or maybe ... what?  Probably something I'm doing wrong.

It should be healed by now.

By mid September I was starting to get plenty pissed off.  Enough.  I need my life back.  I missed my gym workouts, my HIIT cardio and SS cardio and my lower body weight training, all a huge part of my life that I had missed terribly.  And it was beginning to affect my moods.  It was time to see someone.  And so I began with an orthopedic massage therapist, one who came highly recommended.  Long story short, the massage helped greatly, but was short-lived.  The pain would return within a few weeks after the massage.

I continued trying to self-treat, mixed with massage, leading up to our trip to Italy in October -- which I simply must take time to blog about that cruise, but I fear I'll be at a loss for words, which is why I've not done it yet.  Simply and utterly breathtaking.  Everything.about.it.was.amazing. 

I digresss...So upon my return from Italy I make an appointment with a physical therapist, hoping that through their instruction and therapy I could do the RIGHT things and avoid the WRONG things to help speed recovery along.  It had been nearly six months.  And the pain at times would wake me up at night.  Our groin muscle is what we use to get out of the driver's seat.  Something one takes for granted until it's screaming in your face daily:  Ouch, don't do that.  It hurts.

After seven trips to PT, with some but not a lot of improvement in my range of motion and pain, she suggested we get an X-ray to rule out something more serious.

My doctor's office called the day after the X-ray with the results:  "The report shows mild to moderate osteoarthritis of the hip.  We have referred you to an orthopedic physician for a follow-up appointment to meet with him and discuss what exercises you will need to do to limit the pain and improve strength."

I was not convinced.  I know that X-rays don't lie, but I found it hard to believe that that was the reason for all of my pain.  My hip only ached occassionally.  It was the muscles in my groin where I was experiencing the most pain.  What about my groin!?  Something's not right here.

Finally after getting in to see the ortho doc yesterday, I was hoping he could shed light on my questions and I would hear something positive, some formula, shot, medication, exercise plan that would "fix" my groin, and I'd worry about that mild to moderate arthritis stuff later.  How bad can it be anyway.  So, c'mon, doc, tell me something good.  Show me how to get my life back.

There was no plan.  No shortcut.  No pill or shot or exercise that was going to FIX my groin pain.  My groin pain was unfortunately the genesis of the diagnosis.  I have osteoarthritis of the hip, manifested in pain and limited range of motion of the groin.

My options are these:  Prescription strength ibuprofen 3x daily, daily prescribed PT stretches to regain strength in my atrophied muscles in my thigh, yoga, elliptical for cardio -- or walks on flat ground, no hills.  When the ibuprofen stops working, we can consider steroid injections into the hip every three to six months.  Inevitably I will need a hip replacement.

WTH?

And all of this time, all of these years of dedicated workouts, strength training, regular cardio, all that I had read about how this will prolong life and promote longevity and a healthy lifestyle as we age and avoid expensive meds and hospital stays and surgeries -- take care of your body, work out often, make weight training a part of your life, eat healthy.  It wasn't enough .  Apparently osteoarthritis is a genetic thing, or can be.  

Does this mean I give up on working out?  Hell no!  I just have to significantly modify my approach to strength training.  No more heavy weights.  No lunges. No heavy-impact cardio/exercise at all.  No more HIIT circuits.

My new friend (and resurrecting an old one, Callanetics) will be Yoga.  I've ordered the Yoga Burn DVDs.  I'm well familiar with Callanetics and they're very similar to Yoga, but I want to embrace and learn as much about Yoga as I can.  This will become my new norm, my new path to wellness.

Strange as it sounds, when my mind wanders back to my days at the gym, busting my butt, getting high on endorphins and pumping iron and all the insanely crazy highs and happiness that went along with that era of my life... I feel a deep sadness.  That chapter has ended.  And I'm just sad about it.

Time will heal the emptiness I feel.  I'll pour myself into learning this new way of living.  It will be good.  I choose to find the good in my next chapter.  My attitude, my outlook, is a choice.

Reflections of Light and Depth and Soul

My eyes open to look for light...

Is that light...
is it morning...
or is that reflections from the streetlight peeking through the blinds?

I feign consciousness.

It is so faint, the light.  It is morning.  Barely.   A new day.

Like a pogo stick, my mind jumps from one thing to another, trying to remember my to-do list for this last Friday of January.  Oh, but first:  COFFEE.

I pad downstairs, spying my charcoal and cream, insanely warm fleece pullover.  Instant coziness. Harkening winter birds outside the sunroom remind me again -- yes, I hear you, little ones.   It IS morning.  Sing on, friends.  Sing with soul.  Acoustic has long been my favorite.

I light a candle.  And then another.  Keep it coming -- flickering delicate light that visually warms and comforts me -- so I light more.  Reflections.  Winter.  The perfect canvas for reflection.

Making it to the post office (why must the postal worker be so chatty when there's a long line of waiting customers, can the story of her aunt in Ohio wait?), then off to pick up a few muchies for the upcoming Super Bowl.  And Stella Artois.  My football beverage of choice.

It's been a quiet last fews days of unplanned solitude for me.  Rediscovering my lost passions ... painting.  Creativity.

Rummaging through my inventory of paints, stains, waxes, brushes -- all things art -- I collect an array of colors for my experiment.  Black, canvas white, burnt sienna, urban bronze, camel.   They will play quite well together.

It is DEPTH I'm going for on a tired but promising mirror hanging in the stairwell.   I should have taken a "before" -- I almost always forget.   From a pale two-tone gloriless gray that did NOT pop, to this........

Depth.  Soul.  Rugged.  Acoustic, even.

If my mirror had a voice, it would be raspy and mesmerizing.  Like Ray LaMontagne.  (Oh, what a voice)

Mission accomplished.

At Home Among the Trees

I can't remember how long ago -- or perhaps I was born this way -- that my love for trees began.

Walking through a parking lot, along the highway, in a shopping mall, every walk in the woods and every park I visit, I first notice the trees.  Up close, inspecting their bark, their leaves, their majesty.

My house is actually decorated with an abundance of branches.  Some may think it a bit eccentric.

Trees.  Their branches.  All things "trees" bring me calm.  Joy.   They seem to whisper to me and I never fail to acknowledge.

saved birch limbs from a tree we had to remove

bring them inside...welcome home!

Time Doesn't Wait

It's been so long.  So little time.   Revered time to myself.   An evanescent commodity.  My heart longs to "bleed," quoting Hemingway, but I can't seem to carve out time for such luxuries.

Obligations take priority now.  How did that happen, and why now?

This doesn't feel right.  And my soul is out of sync.

I can at least offer snapshots, peeks into my heart, vignettes that have brought joy to my life.  It's all I have for now.

Autumn morning mist at the lake

Simple shot of bull pine cones in West Virginia

Cenacolo

North Huntingdon, Pennsylvania

Fire Alarm Tests, a Necessary Evil

So I'm sitting here minding my own business on a peaceful Friday afternoon, instrumental music (what else?) playing softly in the background, as I answer emails and wait for the apple oatmeal cookie dough to finish chilling in the frig before baking.

(Credits to Danielle from Live Well Bake Often Blog)

A delightful fall afternoon.

Until I hear this off-the-charts high-decibel, prolonged and very shrill shrieking sound.  Yes, all of those adjectives are necessary.

I jumped measurable inches out of my office chair.  Chessie, my peke-a-poo, practically springloaded into my lap. 

And it just kept going.

We're not talking beeps here.  Oh, no. 
Long, shrill shrieks, blasting my eardrums.  Let's be sure everyone for miles and miles hears this alarm. 

I wanted to open the apartment door and yell to maintenance or whoever else was conducting this drill, helllooooo?  Mine is working is just fine.  Thanks!  You can stop now.

So much for a peaceful Friday afternoon.

Now.  Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  The cookie dough.

Crap.  There it goes again! 

 Stop!  Enough already!

Cascade Lights and Rain

That describes my day.  The first rain we've seen in this part of NC in months.  Showers of blessing...the heavens finally opened up. 

I couldn't sleep this morning, so I gave up and came downstairs, lit a few candles, plugged in my cascade lights in my sunroom, and listened to the rain.  Watching it bounce off the patio along with the falling acorns from the giant oaks.  It was barely light enough to see out.  Incredibly peaceful.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and remained glued to my chair, mesmerized by the rain and its effect on me. 

Later, a need and desire to be in His house to worship, and on the way home, a few errands.  I couldn't wait to get back to the house and resume with a little fall decorating.  What a homebody I've become.  But it feels so right.

And the lights?  They feel magical in the darkness of dawn.

It's the perfect place to practice my Italian.

I'm teaching myself, via Duo Lingo.  Very cool app.

Hoping it will come in handy...

two more days, and I will be in Naples, Italy!

My bucket list.

Check.

I am blessed!

Restlessness and Need for Peace

God knows what we need, just when we need it.

I stumbled upon this prayer this morning.  A morning when, like so many other days in my past, I wanted to talk with Him, pour out my soul.  But the words wouldn't come.

And yet He knows.  HE always knows the words.  Long before I even speak them.
And He knows what I need, even before I do.  And yet He patiently waits ... waits for as long as it takes ... for me to acknowledge this to Him.

Oh Lord, sometimes my insides feel like a battle zone, where missiles are falling too close to home. Other times I'm caught in an endless storm, with thoughts flying out of control. Confusion reigns, and defeat creeps in to steal my joy.  I need your peace—the deep-down-in-your-heart kind that stays with me day and night and speaks confidently into the wind. Calm my anxious spirit, Lord; all the attacking "if-onlys" and "what-ifs" fill me with needless worry.

I know that trust is a big part of experiencing peace and that fear has no place in my life. Most of the things I worry about or dread don't even happen. So I'm declaring my trust in you. I'm releasing the reins of my life again and asking you to take control. 

I may need to pray this same prayer daily, but I'm tired of the frenzy of life that leaves my schedule and my thoughts without any margin. I need more of you, Lord, and less of me.