Tag: pain

family, mental health

The Cruelest Month

2chicksandapen

“April is the cruelest month.”

Maybe it is for T. S. Eliot. But for me, the cruelest month is July.

You might think I’d love July, really. It’s the heart of summer, and I am a teacher. Pool days and party nights, right? But these days, we go back to start a new school year in July, so the turn of the calendar brings a bit of dread. But even more so, July haunts me with bad memories.

It starts with the Tour de France, which usually kicks off in the first few days of July. The Tour was a big deal each year of my youth. Long before the days of streaming video, my dad and brother would get up in the middle of the night to watch the race. Throughout the month of July, it was always on in our house…if not the live stage, a recap or rerun or highlight show. Probably not surprisingly, I eventually developed a fascination with Lance Armstrong and the US Postal team (and the other teams he rode for.) Many a summer hour was spent watching the peloton float through the French countryside.

The family love for the Tour and its fanfare was eventually overshadowed by grief.

July is the month when I lost both of my parents. When I got the call that my mother’s short illness had ended, I had the Tour de France on my TV as I got ready to go over and sit at her bedside for my daily ritual. Four years later, the very same week, when I stood by my father’s bedside as he took his last breaths, the Tour de France was on the hospital TV.

These anniversaries are ones I carry in my heart. Some years I almost forget them. But then, more often than not, my heart gets heavy. Deep sighs erupt from out of the blue. Even when my brain is protecting me from sadness, my body remembers.

If only I could put a sign on my forehead….or pin a little note like Paddington Bear had: “July hurts. Take it easy on me.” Life doesn’t work like that. On any given day, plenty of people around me are suffering. When someone snaps at me for no reason, I have to assume their hearts are troubled for reasons that likely have little to do with me.

So I guess it’s no wonder when the Tour de France ads come on, my heart starts to sink. And most years it remains sunk through all the hard and sad anniversaries of July. The heat and heartache can sap whatever energy I have. It sneaks up on me sometimes, but when I remember I know to be patient with myself and just keep going. Eventually August will come.

challenges

Collared

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Three decades of silence and shame, broken with one line.

“After 33 years, today I was revealed as Victim 54.”

No photo. No link. No commentary. No follow up.

But I knew.

I drew my breath in sharply. Old wounds burned under my skin. Did he know that I already knew? It didn’t matter either way. What mattered is that now it has finally come to light. Two-thirds more of his life has passed since those betrayals were committed. Same for Victim 55, my dear friend from the same years.

Finally, those in power who hunt and hurt and those who covered for them are named. Those hiding behind the priest’s collar are collared.

Child abuse doesn’t just hurt the victim. It hurts their friends, their family, their loved ones. They are robbed of the closeness they could have shared while the victim hides in plain sight.

Abuse also hurts the victim’s future. Choices, freedoms, preferences, relationships…it all changes.

Maybe I shouldn’t be thankful I was a girl, but I am. When I look back at having lunches with the predator, the gifts he gave me, the attention he showered on me…but a priest with a girl was probably too strange. Instead, he victimized boys, young men, my friends.

These old horrible men, hiding behind their uniforms. Carrying the banner of Jesus.

Power corrupts. Power clothed in a “sacred” uniform is even worse…more insidious. It gets a pass because it wears the costume of innocence. Virtue creates victims.

No wonder I am mistrustful of power. No wonder I automatically resist anyone who tries to govern me, legal or not. No wonder every time someone shows up in a wholesome uniform, I am guarded, cynical, preemptively skeptical.

The damage done by people who parade their trustworthiness, their valor, is infinitely as egregious. It makes me sick.

Sometimes I am too trusting. But when it comes to uniforms and power, I am the opposite: suspicious. I assume the worst. I always wonder if they are humbly trying to live up to their uniform or is there wickedness hiding beneath?

challenges, travel

Southwest Shitshow

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Today I am flying across country. From one cold front to another. Snow coverings to celebrate a white Christmas this year and frigid temps that call for warm blankets and toasty fires on the home front with my puppies. A welcome I gladly await but sadly have postponed it thanks to Southwest Airlines and their poor service.

I had been magically flying just above the clouds somewhere on the way to Denver, Colorado. It was a peaceful time of reflection. I was thinking of all the people I have in my life that are amazing yet missing those who aren’t with me this holiday season. As I was flying high I felt the presence of those I miss this year. It was almost like the clouds had names of loved ones gone too soon. At this point in the day there was a calm in the air. Not a worry in the world and I was looking forward to being home.

After landing in Denver, the trip home became a little more complex. Staffing shortages for Southwest Airlines were spiraling out of control for days and today things were supposed to be back on track. That was false. Insanity was lurking everywhere. Crying people everywhere. Cops patrolling gates which is not normal. Emotional outbursts at counters. Lines for days at every Southwest counter yet no supervisors in sight and guess what corporate is closed for the holiday!

The backlog and staff shortages caused rippling effects across the county but Denver was one of the most hard hit. The airline swears it was not poor planning on their part rather storm related issues but I beg to disagree. Plane after plane delayed or cancelled waiting on flight attendants to show up to staff a flight or pilots running out of time due to long delays and federal regulations. I have never seen planes sitting at a gate for hours waiting for staff to load the hundreds of people waiting to get on the plane. Most gates had no attendants either because all those who showed up for work didn’t appreciate the hounding of those waiting for a human to give an update.

Fast forward: many hours sitting and being shuffled gate to gate only to watch planes sit idle or get unloaded due to no staff, incomplete flight crew, or in my case over time limit pilots. It was pure insanity and I was in the midst of it. Then finally we load onto a plane at 8:45 pm and sit for over and hour. Babies crying. People getting anxious of why the plane hasn’t moved. The list goes on and on. Then they take us off the plane because the pilots are under the federal guidelines but their union contracts says they can’t fly. Oh the crowd went wild. Anger was written on many faces while tears well up in the eyes of tired and hungry kids. No hand out of water or blankets for those forced to sleep in the airport. No hotel voucher. Nothing. Just a long line to wait to be rebooked on the computers they kept crashing due to overload of resources. An absolute shit show. The picture above shows the length of every line at every Southwest kiosk. The wait was hours long.

Most rebook options were 2 days out at best, but my case was 12/31 some 6 days later with no access to my bag and no accommodations. Sounds amazing right?

That means you are stranded with no access to bags. Many in tears due to holiday gifts being in their checked bags. No options. Many just stuck. Some elderly couples were in disarray not knowing how to operate the internet swiftly or an app. It was unsettling to watch as folks crumbled around me. A young couple had tickets to Disneyland for first time with young kids and they wouldn’t get that money back or get the experience they had planned. 

I have never experienced such chaos in an airport. Southwest had people stranded for days. My inconvenience seemed minimal in comparison to those traveling with small children or even animals. I heard so many kids crying that just wanted to see Grandma or Grandpa for Christmas. It was awful. Now flip the script to other airlines. They are still flying and the chaos seems mild in comparison despite other airlines taking all the rebooks from Southwest’s incompetence.

In my case it cost me another $1,500 to get home and I had to split up with my child to even make that happen. I had to spent the night in an airport and I had no luggage or hygiene items. By the time I got off my cancelled flight no food places were open. Stores were closed for even water. I will definitely rethink my carryon accessories in the future to prepare for airport Armageddon. When I finally boarded my Delta flight Santa had delivered goodies to all their passengers. Mini stockings full of candy. What a treat and what amazing service. Southwest didn’t even give a bottle a water or blanket to those stranded. What an irony.

Signing off a little sleep deprived. A little annoyed. Most definitely disappointed in Southwest Airlines customer service. 4 hours to wait by phone. An app that crashed. Terminals frozen at the airport. Disconnects on phone and so on. Delta will get my money in the future even if it’s more expensive. Delta even gave out mini stocking goody bags to its passengers on my rebooked flight. So crazy.

I will pick up this with the how to get my bags from Southwest in the coming days.

challenges, change

Oh My Aches

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Well 50 has been glorious thus far. So many aches creep up after the big 5-0. Today, I thought I would jot a few down.

The tennis ache: I have a love hate relationship with this kind of ache. I love tennis. I hate the ache in my forearm from overuse. A year ago the ache seemed insignificant. Could the big 5-0 really cause aches?

The CrossFit ache: this ache comes and goes depending on the programming of movements and/or the frequency of my attendance on a regular basis. The ache however is the same. It’s a graduating ache. You must move to keep the tightness from settling in any one place, especially the buttocks. Nobody likes a tight ass. Consistency helps with this ache but age does enlighten you when evaluating aches.

The knee ache: this one is ever so annoying. I can walk. I can bend. I can ride a bike. However, if I sit in a plane seat or a car seat for any length of time my knee is locked. The unlocking part leaves a lingering pain deep inside. Could this be old age? I have no idea what a bad knee feels like but now that I’m fifty I think about it.

Although there are physical aches, there are also emotional and social aches. The social aches come and go with time conflicts and scheduling for adults. Those who want to spend time together but then schedules and life gets in the way. The emotional aches can swing from one side to the other.

One side of the emotional ache could be with growth. Watching your child or young adult grow or not grow. The other side could be emotional aches resulting from the loss of loved ones near and far. Add that 5-0 menopausal self and you might get a an emotional wreck, front and center.

Environmental aches sneak up on you too. The annoying neighbor. The boss who is a pain. The co-worker who slacks causing you extra work.  The weather might even throw you off or makes your aches worse if it’s cold or rainy. One seems easily shaken or disturbed as into that crotchety self over fifty.

I never used to notice aches and pains as much as I have this year. Menopause. Aging. Life. It all hits at once. Or so it seems to me. My forty-five year old self was so much more indestructible. My forty-seven year old self was so adventurous. My fifty and challenged self is changing daily. Likes. Dislikes. Wants. Don’t wants. Needs. No’s. Do’s. Dont’s. I can’t even name them all because change is on the horizon, daily. I also think snoring magnifies over 50.

As I write today, I think of how much I enjoy the still of my day today. The fall air. The cool breeze. The comfy sweatpants. As day shifts to night, I will enjoy something different. The outdoors. The giggles. The challenges. The competition. I hit the field tonight with my new team. I will enjoy some fall memories with this group that will surely keep me on my toes and easily make me forget my aches of the ages.

For now I focus on moving as much as I can and as often as I can. I try to stretch my mind to try new things to counter balance my aging. I often remember to giggle. I also disregard those around me who attempt to suck the life out of me. This is a necessary step to keep the other aches at bay.

Nobody wants to add heartache or worse on top of the other aches I listed above. Well not me anyway. Time to throw my frisbees to my dogs and breathe fresh air.

fitness and nutrition

The Days After

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As a follow up to my experience post, I figured I would document the soreness I alluded to at the end of the post. The aches and pains are real the day after the big competition. That’s how you know you pushed your limits. When muscles hurt that you didn’t know were firing during your adrenaline-rushed day.

You may see a stiffness erupting late in the day you compete. This is just the beginning. Then you rest the night and wake up with everything tight. You need to move to loosen your body even though you feel like you should stay in bed all day. For first timers this is a whole new level of sore.

Remember we had teen athletes in our group. They would say they were in shape yet one struggled to lift their arm over her head while the other said my legs are anchors when I run. I would say their bodies would bounce back quicker than mine at age almost 50 but maybe I have built up a higher pain tolerance with age.

As you loosen you feel better but simple things like bending over, sitting on the toilet or reaching for something can really push your limits. Again it’s a new level of achy tightness. A good night’s sleep again will help tremendously. The texts from other athletes read: I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’m only at 50% but I moved today. I’m still sore. Communication is key in the recovery process as well to see how your gym mates are doing or to share in the woes or to make sure nothing major is surfacing.

2nd full day post-comp you normally have areas that have improved tremendously but may have lingering soreness. For me it was my quads. They improved a ton but in/out of the car was an effort. A deeper squat of any sorts showed my soreness. I leveraged Aleve at some points as well as essential oils and my quads liked the repair gel in the photo below. 

As an athlete recovery is important. Movement is also important. I didn’t skip activities rather I scaled them back during my recovery to speed up my healing overall. Or that was the plan anyway.

Today I will play tennis and see how my body fares. Specifically my quads. Yesterday the motion of the bike erg was refreshing and achy all in one but I still got it done. I may have written about recovery in the past however each comp has varied workouts thus the recovery varies, meaning my soreness may be disbursed over different areas of my body.

I am still thankful for my experience despite the soreness. I’d do it again and again as well. Have a great day and think of me as I’m recovering.