swim beyond the imagery

Healing 1986, guide healing 2008

22 years ago, I was working behind my home.

It was in late June as I recall, and a rather warm Sunday. Several days before, I had driven to Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston in order to donate platelets to the son of T's employer, who was suffering from aplastic anemia.

Upon doing a preliminary check prior to donating, I was informed they could not allow me to donate. "You need to see your doctor as soon as possible." The doctor explained why "you have an irregular heartbeat."   Now that was a bit unnerving.

So I call a doctor. He gives me a Halter monitor to wear for 24 hours. I do, and return it to the doctor. That was Thursday. Three days later, I'm digging out the slope behind the house, which sets upon a hill. I'm doing this in order to create a level area for a future patio or some such creation. As I dig it out, a stone wall is also created to hold the part being filled.

As I worked, my chest began to hurt. I'm 5 days from this warning, 3 days from the Halter. I'm scared silly. We call the doctor, who informs us to get to the hospital in Nashua (40 minutes away) immediately. We go.

I walk into ER, tell them what is going on, and they immediately react in terms of a possible cardiac issue. In no time, I'm in a bed, hooked to machines, and... seeing the lines jump all over the place. "Yup, you've got something going on" a nurse muses. Open that sky door, I'm coming!

They run a blood test for enzyme evidence of a heart attack. They admit me. I'm moved to intensive care. I'm 31 years old. The monitor is unnerving, because each skipped beat is bothersome. If I lie still, it calms, if I start moving or stressing, badoop. Great.

My doc shows and tells me what will be happening going forward. Monday finds me undergoing various examinations through technological means. At some point in the day, the doc outlines where we are. "You haven't had a heart attack. I suspect you have an issue in the valves of your heart. He explains... sometimes the valve doesn't shut properly, and it leaks. This leaking can be heard - the murmur your family doctor told you about as a child. (My sister has this issue, and I know maybe a smidgeon about this.) If so, then we'll run a scan after you do the treadmill. A radioactive dye will be injected into you, and we'll trace it after you come off the treadmill." This will be done the next day. I'm relieved, more accurately... hopeful.

Relatives are all over the place. Two years before, my daughter was here - being born.

The next day, the test is run, and it is confirmed, but there is delay. I'm released on Thursday. I run into another doc, apparently an associate, who casts doubt on the diagnosis. I don't recall the words, but the way he said it left me with the impression he disagreed with my doctor. And it is this which leaves me spooked at length.

It impacts everything I do, most especially diet. Fatty foods are toast for me. Whole milk is gone. I'm a royal pain in the arse, diet wise.

And it pretty much stayed this way all through the 1990s, and into the new millennium, though with some moderation. And then came my  other meltdown, end of a relationship, moving out...

and a casting to the wind of any dietary caution.

In 2003, my cholesterol level was 149.

Two days ago, my endocrinologist sent me an update on my hormone levels. With it came a warning to contact my physician. Your cholesterol level is 259. Your bad cholesterol level is elevated. Your good cholesterol level is in normal range. He recommends medicating.

I really don't wish to medicate. So I wrote to my primary care physician, yet to receive a response, and outlined the issue. With it came my plan. I'm returning to my dietary methodology prior to meltdown, with some improvement and some room for creativity in food preparation. I intend to take this out through diet - providing my doctor approves, or lets me give it a try.

I'm not spooked, I'm disappointed in myself for getting so haphazard about this. I'm resolved. Past experience tells me I will do this, my inner self tells me I will stick to it. And I will make use of Reiki to keep me focused on my goal.

Cabin fever

Of the seasonal fevers, spring fever is much preferable to cabin fever. Yet in the semi dark days of winter, it is cabin fever which rules over the human spirit - at least in northern, more snowbound climes.

Over the past week, it has snowed, sleet, or rained about every day. I've lost count of how many times the drive required clearing. Asphalt, visible the entirety of winter, is now covered under a sheath of ice. The property surrounding the home has 30 inches of water saturated snow upon it. With the first snows of December, little real melting has transpired. Yet with several episodes of heavy rain, the water content of the snow pack has to be very high.

If a quick onset, warm and wet March rolls at us, flooding could be a story in this area. I'd guess Georgia would love some of what we have stored on our lawns, fields, and forest.

Now comes the wind and the cold, at least for a couple of days. Yet hope lies not so distantly ahead. We are in the second half of winter. Daylight is beginning to stretch out, the average daily high temperature is on a slow march northward.

In the here and now though, cabin fever lurks. I'd love to be floating in warm water, love to be lurking near warm water, sipping margaritas. This will have to be the province of my imagination. I'll create the imagery within, and daydream I've somehow placed myself in a more soothing and subtle setting.

Spring... lies 39 days out. Surely we can make it here without running straight (gasp!) to Florida?

I scare myself

On the drive home, thoughts of what to write this evening drifted through my head, interrupted by disappointment within me, with me.

And that is what is going to be chronicled. I try really hard to stay focused, to not let me get away, get out of control, become some manic person laced with anxiety over gender, over family, over all that guilt from the past. Stay positive, in control, move forward.

It isn't always easy. I'm sensitive about this, or rather sensitive to things which might cause an upset in how I cope with life. With all that happened, this can be very upsetting, triggering fear that a regression could occur.

So much of staying positive is rooted in confidence, and if I screw up, it triggers self-doubt, and self-disappointment. Perhaps that is a good thing, because that being tough on self acts like a floor against sinking far, or perhaps a trampoline upon which to bounce back up. All I know is that this has been more difficult recently, since say... the advent of jury duty and how it interrupted my work schedule.

I'm just now getting my feet back on the ground and back into a decent work groove. It has stunned me it would take 3 weeks to accomplish.

What is weird is that others seem touchier as well... perhaps it is the weather, what with 5 feet of snow having fallen since 1 December, and more on the way. If so, that is an easy thing to cope with... but in my world, with the history, it can be a very scary thing.

And if you are reading, Jen... why spirituality is such an important part of my life now.

Health assessment

Under our new union contract, we will receive a $200 card which is good towards health co-payments during the year in exchange for completion of a health assessment. The managing insurer has participants taking the survey by way of webmd.

After spending some time actually locating where to take this assessment, it took about 10 minutes to wind my way through the questions. I'm not sure what value this assessment actually carries, as it simply does not allow for elaboration or clarification, and the potential for inaccuracy is enormous. With this being rather obvious, and with the real end goal being obtaining the co-pay card, I wound my way through the tedium.

Ah, but then came the report at the end. No real surprise, it bombed me. Why? Well... I'll have a drink a day, haven't been walking on my lunch hour in several months now, my diet isn't what I'd like it to be, and I need to lose a few pounds. When the report generated, it told me I was overweight... 5'10" tall, 175 pounds. Overweight. I really need to do some research and find what weight webmd considers normal for someone 5'10'. 120 pounds?

My diet needs to change, it has gone downhill over the last 4 years, but there are social issues involved here... if I lived alone, easy, but I don't, and our dietary tastes are polar opposite.

I've also lost a walking partner, and hate heading out alone, so I'll have to work on that one. A drink? If webmd wants to make me feel guilty for drinking one drink, well... an audible raspberry for them.

All in all, I was quite disappointed in this assessment, not for its dissing of me, but rather for how it really is more of a lecture device than a sound evaluation - for that, you need a real, live, doctor. Guess that's why I have *two.* And a therapist - which reminds me, it lectured me on mental health as well, this after asking a couple of questions on whether I meditate or not. Hmmmmm.... I probably delve into this more than most, but a couple of questions led them to come up with a couple of goofy and simplistic remarks.

Webmd, if you are looking for feedback on your assessment, I did complete your survey, and it was ranked poorly. You can do a hell of a lot better than this.

What will I share?

This is my blog, a place to publicly toss out the workings and doings of my life. Yet, there are things I don't share here, and perhaps would never share here.

For instance, my work doings, much of which ventures into confidential territory. I'll share general doings, funny moments, etc... but detailed events, not going there.

There are things wholly associated with me I'll not fully spell out, either. One such thing are the parameters of my spirituality. I'll talk about it in general terms, but the things that play through my mind at rising and setting are things I hold rather close.

Those general terms will refer others to see Sue Monk Kidd's Dance of the Dissident Daughter, but there are associated things built in that don't get shared.

And it's weird... I've held my beliefs closely ever since leaving the Catholic church over 30 years ago. I was disenchanted with what I was asked to accept, put off by both local and organisational activity. There was distrust of organisation, yet the belief in God was still there, so it simply went within, staying pretty much the same until around 2002, when new things would lead me over the next year or two in a totally - radically - different direction.

Yet it is all still private, not something I expect anyone else to believe. It's me interfacing with the universe, and it's a way for me to get through, find my way, stay focused, etc.

And then there are things associated with my children. I'd never put their names out here, thus R, thus K. There are things I'd never talk about that involve them, but I do discuss missing them, or occasionally some momentous event in their lives.

I'm a private person overall, and it took a lot of effort both on the part of others and me to bring me to a point where I can actively delve and dissect my inner doings verbally or in print. I can stand and offer my opinion on lgbt doings and my place within that acronym, but the full extent of where PTSD can take me doesn't make it's way here. Because through force of will, I overcome and get back to a good place.

I doubt these things will ever get here on this space... my goal is to facilitate healing in my life and the lives of those who actively are impacted by me, and that is what you will most see here, along with the occasional story of those important to me.

I'm writing this for my benefit, if you hadn't already noticed. :)

I have an enemy

It's not a new phenomenon, something recently developed. This enemy has been there from the first, and it has remained attached through all of my life.

One really need not think very much to realise this enemy is in fact me. From my earliest memories, my body was wrong. I self-considered my being to be a two way split, with my life hitched to the wrong side. The other side, whilst visible, was untouchable.

When that unbreakable glass finally broke, it almost broke me with it, creating a remade, metamorphosed enemy - my memory, my history.

There are times I wonder if it's somehow tied to hormonal action. Days where my life is moving in a good direction, and I'm doing my level best to keep it there. At less frequent times, the memories will collide square on with me, and I feel every inch and ounce of pain that came from the crossing time. At such times, I can feel my facial muscles sag, my mouth curve downward. A night's sleep my bring it on, or it might end such a feeling. It rarely lasts long, but it's powerful when it comes upon me.

There are reasons one has a therapist, and though mine started with gender, the need now is to keep a good focus, to stave off turtleing, to keep my good place in working hard, and in embracing the positives of life. 95% of the time, it's all good. But I do have to acknowledge the times that my enemy goes for a smackdown, and further have to acknowledge that enemy is no further away than my own mind.

Dreams of undeveloped home spaces (and other things)

It's been a recurring dream theme for decades.

I'll be wandering through my home, or a home that is such in my dream time, and I'll come across undiscovered and unknown space. Expressing incredulity that this space has existed without me being cognizant of it's presence, I wander in, look around from wall to floor to ceiling,  and immediately begin pondering the possible.

I'll see a new family room, or new bedroom space, perhaps a place of recluse where I can get away and hide. I'd guess that would be sort of like the secret room on Ally McBeal, accessible through a panel in their restroom, though my dream spaces do not have such a surreptitious element, it's simply safe space. 

This general theme came to me once again overnight, and as per usual, it leaves me like a child in a toy store. My imagination, as if it isn't already at work shaping the dream elements, starts looking at the lay of the room, picturing walls finished, floors complete, ceilings installed. Did I mention these spaces are usually bare frame, or even with a need for inner framing? A bereft structure, but with ample space that cries out "how could this have gone unrecognised?

Some are multi-level attic spaces (gee, never thought there was *this much* room up here; some lie behind walls.

I wonder why this is a recurring theme, if it's as simple as my love to build, or is it more reflective of things within me, a need to explore the undeveloped parts of my own mind? Maybe it is a combination of the two, a way of touching what was once untouchable, a once unknown pathway now rendered as an example to grab and deal with other unexplored mental territory?

What is also interesting is the sense of disappointment that comes with waking: that space was not real, and you do not get to finish it according to the plans dream-formed. I have this urge to jump back in and live in that world for a while.

One other dream remembered from overnight... I was decorating a cake with a vaguely multi-coloured but predominantly white, marshmallowy frosting. As it was applied, there was this sudden impulse to stand, but something was holding me down. The resistance of that hold-down was sufficiently strong to roust me right out of sleep.

Empathy

As opposed to emsxiety?

Nah. *waves to em*

Empathy is never far away from my life, and this afternoon, read of someone who is susceptible to empathy, and that it impacted her life in rather significant ways. That statement immediately struck a nerve, because I'm essentially the same way. So naturally I thought on it a moment, jotted down a quick note to write on this tonight.

Interestingly, earlier this evening I stumbled upon Scientists find reason for contagious yawning. The research seemingly shows a correlation between susceptibility of group yawning to empathy. Interesting stuff, even if tenuous.

We are all empathetic, but some of us manage it better than others, perhaps even have a better handle on reality and perspective. I do not fit into such a group, and those who know me have seen all the signs. My therapist would be the first in line to suggest this as a core part of me. One mention of something I've heard, done, etc and she will say that is unsurprising.

I do manage it better now than a few years back, better understand my own issues, abilities, and limits. Still, it's a part of me, and it's important for me to acknowledge this fact.

A rare event

We get excited over total eclipses. We might even get giddy over 7/7/7. Some pack up their ship for an alignment of all nine... wait... eight planets.

Today is such a rare occurrence. I've taken a vacation day. Huh?

I have trouble with vacations. Vacationing reminds me of a time when I had basically left the real world to shut out the pain and such of what was unfolding due to my gender nonsense. Yeah, that helped... not. First, you have to remember that others depend upon you.

Essentially my vacation time gets used for things like therapy and electrology. A hour here, half a day there. Since I have up to 21 days of vacation time available each year, that's a lot of disjointed time off, and I have 12 days or so stored in the vacation locker.

In the 34 months I've worked for my employer, I've used something like one day of sick time, for doctor's appointments. And none since 1July, 2005.

My mom originally had a doctor's appointment today. Given this is 50 miles from where I work, it seemed the best approach was to simply not work. Yesterday my mom's doc moved her appointment to September, and here I am. Har, I know! Reschedule that electrology appointment from Wednesday night to Tuesday afternoon... I'm just beginning to see, now I'm on my way. Um, you really don't wish me singing it, or maybe I can whilst my face is electrocuted, which will in turn be turbocharged by the predicted thunderstorms.

This is a good thing, because as my writings suggest, life doings have bothered on me lately, and I just need to reset and chill. I can feel this working already... if I don't think too much about not working. Shhhh.

A reluctant posting - the sequel

Naturally, the pressure eased overnight. My inclination is to not write this, and in fact, I am forcing myself to chronicle this.

My tendency is towards this, something bothers me a bit, my internal ship is righted, and onward I go. But it's important for this space to reflect these doings in my head. If you will excuse this post as being more placing on the record than something to share with others, I'll get on with the writing.

The real elephant in my room, or lurking in my head, are my daughters. I have built serious walls to shut out the estrangement from them, and they hold pretty well. Last night though, those walls were somewhat permeable, and it was then that I realised this needed to be written.

This issue has the potential to take me out if those walls fall. I could feel it last night, and while the walls stand strong this morning, I know that this is in fact right on the money. There is a huge reservoir of pain there, and I keep it at a distance. If anything opens that wall to any significant degree, I am uncertain what will result. I could end up curled up in a ball somewhere.

I've long knew (duh) that this was painful, which is in fact why walls stand to protect. But I have sort of taken there presence for granted, at least until last night. Now I see how dangerous it all is, and I'm going to have to find a way to better deal with this than I have in the past. It has to be dealt with in some manageable way before it rips it wide open, as my gender issues did 4 years ago.