Bright Side

I was thinking the other day about all the things I do now that I wouldn't be able to do if I were working full time. I came up with quite a comprehensive list. I found it incredibly helpful for my mental health to do this. I still miss working and all that came with it. The identity, the respect, contributing financially to my family, helping my community in a meaningful way...

It's one thing to have my family tell me how helpful and useful I am even though I can't work right now. But it's completely different to work through those feelings on my own.

Now I have time to:

• Fight for my medical supplies (my wheelchair, CPAP machine, etc.) This always takes a ton of time and was incredibly hard to do while working full time.
• Attend needed medical appointments and therapies.
• Spend more time in nature. 
  
  
  
• Create things and express my creative side. 
  
• Process the loss of my partial mobility. Mentally and emotionally.
• Be there to help my son. 
• Spend time getting to know my mother and who she is right now.
• Investing time and spoons into our home and garden. 
  
• Spend more time with my puppy and enjoy her last days with her. 
  
• Be available 100% for my husband. Hearing about his work and being more a part of his day.
• Being able to invest more time on my body and health. 
  
  
  

Processing Grief

I lost a lot when I became disabled. 

A big part of my identity was wrapped up in my job. No... my career. It felt like I had just barely scratched the surface of a huge part of my life when everything was turned upside down. First by my muscle disease that cause my energy and mobility issues, then again by my brain tumor that left me with potentially life long side effects.

I am very resilient and landed quickly on my feet. I also have fantastic family support. However I don't think I entirely processed what had happened. I feel like I was just taking it one day at a time in survival mode going from one medical appointment to the next. My identity as a helper of others had been turned around completely and now I was the one in need of help. 

I realize now that the dust has settled a bit (and even though that we're still in a global pandemic) I'm finally processing what happened to me. It was very shocking, completely life changing and horrible. Now I'm having to grow my other identities (and dust off old ones, like being an artist) to rebuild myself. 

A Sharpie drawing I did for my Mama

One thing that hit me hard this weekend was that I had been feeling entirely unattractive. My sexuality had been smashed along with my confidence. Not very long ago I was a full time wage earner, busy but invigorated. Now I feel like a "fat, old crippled lady." (My words)

Of course one fix is slow. Weight loss (which I REALLY need to take more seriously!) The other is my sexual confidence. When I look good, I feel good. But let me back up.

For the last 7 years (since I turned 40) I have flirted with my "natural" hair color. I had been a life long dye addict and was curious what my real hair color looked like. So began a very long repetitive process of growing my hair out, coloring it, then whacking it short to go back to my natural color. After my brain tumor I tried out Henna and shunned the drug store box because of the chemicals. But that was a long process that was also very messy.

Well, this weekend I decided to color my hair again. Not henna, but not the drugstore box either. I went with a natural botanical brand of permanent dye and I picked "Licorice." I wanted a black vixen look like Elizabeth Taylor. 

My Mama took me to our local co-op and they had just what I was looking for. Then she colored it for me at her casa. I actually really love it and do feel much sexier and confident in my looks. It's silly how such a little thing can help me mentally, but it did. 

For me this was less about dying my hair and more about regaining some much needed body autonomy. I often feel like my body runs the show and I'm just along for the ride. This time I took the (black) reigns and got some control back. I also happen to think it looks great, which helps my self esteem. All that for just $18. 

I know I'll continue to process and grieve for what I lost, while being aware the whole time of how very lucky I am. My feelings aren't exclusive and I give myself full permission to feel both.

Keeping Distracted

My wonderful employer is taking everyone to Hawaii in January. Saturday I just wanted to get out of the house and do something fun, so the hubby and I decided to go searching for snorkel equipment. We've never been snorkeling before, but are excited to give it a try. We pride ourselves in being adventurous and planning an adventure is a good way to take my mind off... well... my mind. More specifiably, my brain tumor(s) (which I have yet to name.) 

My husband is more interested in the traditional snorkel gear, while I'm more in the "float face down like a bloated corpse" camp. I've read great reviews on these full face snorkels. It was helpful to go to an actual scuba shop and try them on though. They didn't have this "Miss Piggy pink" in my size, but they're ordering me one. (insert squeal of excitement here.)

I also distracted myself by calling a friend I haven't spoken to in a very long time. I have a bad habit of online shopping while I'm on the phone. I don't always buy something, but this time I did. I found a company called "Love Your Melon" who makes these adorable hats (and blankets.) I just loved the idea of wearing this soft, cozy hat after my (potential) brain surgery. And even if I don't need surgery, I still need to love my melon.

50% of proceeds from the company go to help fight childhood cancer.

On Friday before I even knew about the brain tumor(s) I bought myself this mermaid pendant. I've had my eye on it for a month, but had to save up to get it. I thought it was a beautiful way to mark getting my first "real" wheelchair. The medical equipment company is sending a rep to my house on Thursday to measure me and help me pick out an electric chair. This necklace is the first mermaid I've seen who doesn't have long flowing hair, but who also has some sass. Just like me. I love her. 

Now that I've been diagnosed with a brain tumor(s) I'm sure my insurance company won't give it a second thought about covering my electric chair 100%. So that's a bit off my mind (get it? Hahah!) I'm looking forward to meeting the rep and hearing more about my options.

My husband has been amazing (as always) and has also been so helpful at keeping me distracted this weekend. It's been a weekend full of back rubs, hugs and extra loves and support. He didn't even flinch when I insisted I needed a $25 ZZ Plant for my office. What a guy!

We're hoping to learn more today about the tumor(s) and what's to come. But in the meantime I'm focusing on the now and keeping busy. 

NOTE: I'm not affiliated with any of these links and I didn't receive any compensation for sharing their information in any way.