The Zest For Life

I often remark at 4:30am when my 19 month old nephew is screeching with delight or disgust that he has the zest for life- as if to dismiss his midnight/early morning energy splurge as a developmental milestone. And still, I often don't doubt that statement.  But when I am strapped down by some sort of condition that inhibits me from feeling my zest for life, well then- I get mad.

Thanksgiving was awesome.  I loved having my in-laws in town.  I love filling our home up to visitors, letting them lead some sort of alternative lifestyle for a moment.  Always the comments flood in about how lucky we are.  Not to seem curt but we do lead a pretty charmed life.  Communal living has afforded us a beautiful house, land, the flexibility to work less and make less.  I often remind my visitors of the challenges we face living like this; it is hard to live with anyone and compromise is always involved.   But alas, our weekend is fantastical (as my sister-in-law would put it).

This great weekend didn't come without a price.  Having been dealing with these very odd physical symptoms, I was worried I wouldn't enjoy myself.  I did though.  I will not say that I was feeling great; I had some uncomfortable occurrences, but nothing that had me out cold.  I tried my best in the kitchen without overdoing it.  Thursday as I was prepping for the meal, I started to notice that my left hand was hurting.   I had already chopped mirepoix necessities: carrots, celery and onions.  I went so far as to mince about a half a bulb of garlic as well.  I can't help myself, I love cooking.  It is often what makes me feel alive and connected.  But as time passed that morning, I knew I was not going to be able to keep up this pace.  In fact, when the symptoms begin to rear their slow, painful, dreary heads, you know you've gotta sit out some.

So I did.  My presence in the kitchen didn't falter, I just sat and took breaks, talked people through and continued on with my happy turkey day.  The phone call to my parents' house brought me to my knees emotionally.  I spoke with almost everyone there: I'm counting 9 to be exact.  I cried to each in my melodramatic way, trying to keep my composure.   I think the moment got the best of me.  I was tired and started to feel symptoms of this weird condition that has been controlling my life in a way.  I missed everyone and so, the perfect storm brought me to tears.

That said, after I got off the phone, I was back feeling a bit happier.  The rest of the weekend went something the same.  Good times, weird symptoms, self doubt.  Maybe for me the weirdest was Saturday night when I was suddenly struck by severe fatigue.  I noticed myself nodding out that night while we were out to dinner; it was 5:30pm!  When we got home, I passed out at 7pm and slept 3 hours in the family room as everyone sat around, watched TV, and hung out.  My sleep was desperate and not restful as I had electrical shocks running down my legs which made me moan aloud.

At 10pm, I awoke, a bit more conscious this time, and felt that ever powerful zest for life.  It is part of who I am and for that - I am thankful.  What I didn't mention is that I got my second tattoo this weekend! Woot!  I've wanted one for quite some time; finally answered my requests.  The tattoo is there to remind me that life is so much bigger than who we are.  And there is balance and cycles, light and dark, night and day.  I look at my tattoo and feel the strength of that tree in the center, standing tall and I breath this into my core self.

I'm home today- I was supposed to be at work.  You'd think after a long weekend, I'd be able to work.  Not in my case.  Had to call out today.  I spent all night awake last night.  It started yesterday as I was out running some errands.  First I had an urgency to pee, which left my in pain.  Although I rarely practice this, I stopped at a convenience store and used the public restroom. From there I head to the one store I planned to go to that day- The Kennedy Bros. http://www.kennedy-brothers.com/  The store is closing in 3 days so I wanted to make one last pilgrimage.  Within the first 15 minutes of browsing, an incredibly debilitating pain attacked my lower back.  I'm not sure I even noticed it at first.  What I noticed was that the left side of my body started feeling numbed and more work for me to move.  When you have a zest for life, it is sometimes hard to identify when your body is attacking you.  My drive is sometimes stronger that I give it credit for.  But realizing something was off, I paused from my shopping and became mindful of the pain.  I just stood still mid-aisle and breathed into and with my body.  Bingo!  The pain located itself immediately- lower back, maybe muscle contractions?  My back pains turned to front pains as my intestines started to feel tight.  The gurgling is fairly familiar so I didn't pay it any mind.

For those of you who suffer, you know the pain of bedtime at this point.  I wanted to sleep so badly.  My eyes tired and closed, but my body so pained I couldn't.  At 12:30am I retreated to the family room with a glass of seltzer and a 1/4 cup of dry cereal.  The snack was intended to clear up the severe nausea I was plagued with.   I was able to nod in and out of sleep with several breaks for runs to the bathroom- either to pee or in fear of vomiting.

I don't intend to write this blog to upset you, in fact, quite the opposite, to enlighten you on your own path.  After calling out of work, too dizzy and fluid to stand in a classroom with teenagers all day, I slept for an hour and got that zest pumping again.  I'm coming to terms with my being and starting to think about alternative ways to support myself as I struggle with symptoms that are undiagnosed and something debilitating.

Those with similar stories, please share.

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