I’ve got CRS

At what point do you start to wonder about dementia? Is it too early to worry about it when you’re in your thirties? I mean, seriously?! Where the f#%! did I leave my keys? Where are my favorite boots? What time did I schedule that appointment? Which child has their conference tonight? Where’s my phone?!?! Oh yeah, it’s in my hand. Ugh…

I work in neurology, so sometimes I feel like I know too much. But sometimes it’s just enough to make me think I’m a hypochondriac. I mean, when you’re in your twenties and thirties, you shouldn’t forget things as often as I do, right??

I have my calendar on my phone now, because I couldn’t remember where I had my pocket-sized calendar. I don’t remember when my kids met all their milestones anymore, but I can tell you they were ahead of all of them. BUT, I can tell you what my first AND second drivers license numbers were, a few phone numbers from when I was a kid, my social security number, and some random other facts that have somehow managed not to escape my brain. And I can remember which room in the hospital many of my patients were in, way back to the year 2000 when I was a nursing assistant.

And do I really worry about dementia? No. I know it’s really just stress. I’ve been so stressed for so long that I can’t even hold onto memories. Sometimes I think it’s my brain’s way of protecting me from things that were painful and I don’t REALLY want to remember them anyway. But unfortunately not all the memories that slipped away were painful. I wish I could have them all back, but I guess some things in the movie Inside Out were spot on – after a while the old memories get shoved to the dump never to be retrieved again.

So I suffer from stress-induced CRS disease. Can’t. Remember. Shit. …….ugh. My kids remind me of things, thankfully, and some of the memories come back when they say things or do things that they used to do. And I’m grateful when those memories pop back into my mind, instead of heading off to the dump. But I still can’t rattle off my favorite recipe for tater tot hot dish. I’ll still pull it up on my tablet and scroll through it as I cook. It’s on the menu for tomorrow night. I better go find the link…

Stress is stress is stress…

Stress can do awful things to a body. But did you know your body sees all stresses the same? Good stress (eustress) and bad stress (distress)…they all have the same effect.

In the last couple years, I’ve had most of the major life events happen in very close succession. My marriage took a nosedive. I got separated, I had a job change (lost one job and found another, but had a few weeks in between), my father had a heart attack, I moved out of the house, I started dating, and finally the divorce. All the while, my children were having behavior issues. And there was drama in my family.

So even with the positives, my body still wasn’t sure what to do. Starting to date can be scary, and I’m thankful I had the opportunity to start dating someone I already knew – a friend from high school. Thank you social media for keeping us in touch! I guess that was my version of online dating? 😉

Moving out on my own was scary, but it was nice to have a place of my own. Having the opportunity to put things where I wanted, eat when I wanted, exercise when I wanted, do things with the kids on our own time when they were with me. But I don’t have my kids all the time. And that SUCKS! I went from full time mom to part time mom, and that’s my least favorite of all! But I digress…

My mojo started fading, even with all the exciting good things that were happening. I started gaining weight, I got injured – a lot, I found it hard to get up and exercise. After months of looking for a house, I finally found one, and I started moving in this past weekend – yay!! And that’s an entirely different post…BUT I feel awful that I haven’t been able to do much for the moving. Because I’ve been SICK!

I started getting sick before Christmas. Pretty sure I had the flu, despite getting the flu shot back in October. I started feeling better and got to enjoy most of Christmas. Then I went back to work and this past weekend started getting really sick again! So I fall asleep on the couch and can’t help unpack. I sleep many hours of the day. And the cough and head congestion won’t stop. And I’ve had it! But it’s not through with me yet. Because even the good stress of moving into my own home and out of an apartment is still stress. And my body is still revolting. This too shall pass, right?

God helps those who help themselves…

Whether you believe in God or not, most people believe there is something bigger than us. Since I was raised in the church, I’ll refer to this higher power as God, but feel free to substitute the word of your choice (in your head) as you read this.

I had a lovely conversation with a patient and his priest today. The priest offered to step out but the patient and family invited him to stay. We talked about his symptoms and diagnosis and treatment. And as I was about to leave, he says to me, “Now I’ll ask you the same question we {pointing to the priest} were just discussing…Why?” Meaning, why did he get injured and end up in the hospital. That’s always an interesting question to try to answer.

I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason. Often we don’t know the reason, or it may show itself much later. So we discussed this, and we were all in agreement that we may never know. Then I threw out another option. “Maybe this happened to force you to slow down because you’re always going and going and don’t know how to ask for help”… well there’s a concept. His priest pointed at his nose as if to say “you nailed it”. You see, this man is in his 80s and still acting as if he’s in his 20s. That’s not to say that he CAN’T do everything anymore, but maybe he SHOULDN’T. Remember the old saying “It takes a village”? Well, back in the day, no one person was expected to do everything. The village came together to get things done. These days we’re all trying to do everything ourselves, and we get down on ourselves if we can’t do it all. But we weren’t MEANT to!

Yes, there’s a phrase, “God helps those who help themselves”, but that doesn’t mean we have to do it ALL ourselves. Maybe we just need to find the help we need, or accept the help that is offered. For years I tried to do it all. I thought I HAD to. I felt there was no other option at times. And I pushed myself to the limit. And I burned out. These days I’m trying to be more accepting when help is offered. I’m trying to NOT do it all myself. Because I’m trying to honor myself. What if we all did that a little more. What if we could rely on each other like we’re meant to. Maybe health issues wouldn’t have to come along to force us to slow down. Now, there will always be job security for me, because that’s not really what causes illness…but what if?

The blame game

Why does there always have to be someone to blame?

My 9-year-old commented the other night that he “wonders what daddy’s take is on the divorce”. He knows my version, but he was told there’s more to the story.

I could have taken a nasty “it’s all his fault” approach. Instead I had told the kids it was nobody’s fault, which is really the truth. But I guess at the same time, we were both at fault. I said we both took each other for granted and grew apart and that we didn’t work out anymore. At which my middle child once responded “but you DO both work out”…yes we exercise but we didn’t work TOGETHER anymore. We didn’t grow together. We became two separate people living in the same home. On social media we looked perfect, because we had an image to uphold. I didn’t post a picture unless it was perfect. I didn’t post workout pictures where you could see my rolls. I didn’t post a picture with bad hair. I didn’t post a picture that didn’t make us look happy. But, that’s a topic for another post…

Why does there need to be more to the story? Why does it have to be someone’s fault? Why can’t we admit that neither of us held up our ends of the marriage? We’re all adults here, except the kids. Let’s let the kids be kids.