Purposeful stop

After the emotional roller coaster of last weekend, I finally found my stride yesterday with help from Lesley. We took a long walk in the glorious sun, purged out some more stuff, AND took it directly to the donation drop. The last  one is the key to avoiding rummage remorse, where you go back and second guess what you put in the bag/box and retrieve it.  It feels good to get more stuff out.  It is so much easier with someone else because they don't have the same emotional attachment to items and can be objective.

Sorting through stuff always brings up memories. Fun times, sad times, adventures, and disappointments. I've been processing what my new self will be partially by looking back at who I was.  I discovered I have a strange relationship with relaxation.

I can lolly-gag, putter around, and waste time as well or better than anyone.  I can squeeze in one more mindless computer game, or read one more section of the paper when I really shouldn't.  We have to leave no later than five minutes ago?  Well, I should really get dressed then.  But that is not relaxation or respite.  In fact, it is the opposite.  It always causes more stress in the end.

Through observation and research I have discovered that many other people engage in relaxing on purpose. They actually set out to do nothing.  More accurately, they set out to do something they enjoy for no other reason.  They watch a TV show, work on a craft project, go to a movie, or take a nap, even, guilt-free. They take vacations and SIT AROUND and RELAX.  Who knew?  Apparently a lot of people.

I can honestly say that the times I have purposely relaxed are so rare as to stand out in my mind as an event. Taking a nap on vacation at Laguna Beach in 2000. Sitting on the beach in a lawn chair in 2008 -- mostly because I was so exhausted from radiation it was the most I could do. The Kentucky Derby, when I declare to everyone that I am sitting my ass on the couch and watching all the ridiculous coverage and two minutes of racing.  Apparently people do this on a regular basis.

To me, every moment of doing one thing is stolen from doing something else. While typing this blog post, my brain is listing all of the other things I should be doing, could be doing, might be doing, instead.  There are few escapes from the mental checklist flogging me most of the time. Going to the movies is good because it is dark, you are hopefully consumed by the movie, and you cannot see that the living room really needs to be picked up or notice that cobweb hanging from the beam.

Game playing also is an activity that uses enough of my brain as to shut down the ticker tape guilt machine for awhile. Being ruthless takes a lot of focus apparently. Maybe that is why they always make me be banker.

My mother and my grandmother were both fond of saying, "If we don't go now, there is no point in going at all." If we don't "go at all," we might miss something wonderful or amazing that will never come again.  At least that is how it felt, and continues to feel.  Vacations must have a purpose, and, no, sitting on the beach reading a book apparently is not a purpose.

My children have rebelled against this notion.  For Karina, sitting in a hotel room watching endless TV is a vacation.  Karissa wants to go and do, but she wants to really do it.  She wants to see all of the zoo.  She wants to sled all day.  She does not want to make a cursory pass through and move on to the gift shop.

Kelly always knew how to relax.  The first time we took a trip together he was somewhat aghast that yes, I expected we would walk through all the antique stores, and the pottery shops, and the market places.  We were still at the point in the relationship where he was trying to impress me and not point out my crazy. When he said we should watch a movie in the room and take a nap, I was scandalized.  Who pays for a hotel room and then actually spends time in it? And nap? How could I ever, EVER, justify taking a nap?

As I unpack my neuroses, hopefully I can learn to deal with them a little better.  Instead of 'stealing' ten minutes to play a computer game, which inevitably turns into an hour, maybe give myself permission to sit down for ten minutes and play.  Maybe instead of just demanding two hours on the first Saturday in May, I could let myself just read a book for an hour, or watch a movie without the guilt.

Purposeful relaxation.  This will be a challenge.

As for the great cancer adventure, there are always ups and downs.  The swelling in my neck has, for example, both gone up and down regularly.  Just not down, down.  Patience. Patience.

I sprayed food all over myself for the first time in a long time.  I had a jam in the feeding tube and was pulling back on the plunger to try to loosen the jam.  The plunger came out and everything in the syringe spilled all over me.  Attractive.  I also jammed up the Nutribullet last night.  Apparently starchy stuff like potatoes needs more thinning liquid.  The blender motor got labored so I unplugged it.  I had a mighty struggle to free the blender cup from the blender.  What would have been a normal meal for me became two meals worth by the time I thinned it enough.  Not good as weight was down again this morning.

The nutrition company informed Kelly yesterday that they cannot get 60 mL feeding syringes anymore and can only send the crappy ones like they did last time.  I checked with other 'tubies' and no one else has heard this.  I can buy my own through a bird feeding supplier, so I guess it will come to that. There isn't much point in having them send more syringes that don't work.

The stoma that had been looking better went back to oozing unattractively. Yesterday it decided bleeding like crazy was a good idea.  *Shudder* I hate blood.

Swallowing is hit and miss. I really don't like doing it and it gets harder and harder to make myself.  It isn't pain.  I'm not sure if it is still the fear of aspiration, or if it is more the little voice of defeat that tells me it isn't going to work anyway, so why bother.  Maybe I need to re-read the story about the woman who eats everything.

My teeth feel weird and loose all the time.  I don't know if that is from not chewing, or what.  It is a strange sensation.

Overall, I feel physically better.  That is good because I get to fly solo for a few days as Kelly has to go to a conference.  This aught to be interesting.  Just Tube-feeder and her side-kick, Picky Girl. I suppose this means I'll have to get up in the morning...