On Ritual and Good Results (Blog #690)

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All day I’ve had my nose stuck in a book–Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt. I rarely read fiction, but this is delightful. Plus, it’s not even fiction; it’s nonfiction, a true story of hospitality, weirdness, and murder in the town of Savannah. This afternoon I plowed through two hundred pages, half the book. I can’t wait to finish it. Alas, I have things to do, places to go, people to see.

Yeah right, Marcus.

Every day, at least lately, I make it a point to do three things–practice chi kung (a meditative/healing art), write this blog, and go to the gym or otherwise rehab my knee or work out my upper body. I don’t know, it’s like I can breathe a sigh of relief whenever I check those items off my to-do list. Not that those things in and of themselves keep the world spinning, but they do provide a certain amount of structure to my otherwise unstructured day/life, so they keep my world spinning. They’re grounding. Again, it’s not the specific acts, it’s the rituals around them.

Something about the idea of ritual, of at least repetition. In the acknowledgments of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, the author says it took him years to pen his tale. This struck me because what what took him years to write will probably end up taking me days to read. But for years, I’m assuming, this guy had to repeatedly, as one writer says, keep his butt in a chair and, well, write. And now, over twenty years after the book was first published, I’m able to enjoy it because he did, because he had a ritual.

Earlier tonight I received several messages on Facebook from someone wanting to know about Lindy Hop, and it made me want to dance again. Like really dance, more than the basics. Unfortunately, thanks to my knee, that’s not going to happen anytime soon. But again, it made me realize that part of the reason I love dancing is because I’ve invested so much of myself into it. I couldn’t even begin to count the hours I’ve spent learning, practicing, teaching. Is it big deal in the grand scheme of things to lay off several months in order to get back to what I love doing? Absolutely not. Is it necessary to be ritualistically dedicated in my efforts to get to where I want to be? Absolutely.

Good results come from ritual; they don’t just materialize.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this. I guess I’d like to be clear that having a ritual, although it provides stability, is often pretty damn boring. Think about brushing your teeth. Do you LOVE it? Probably not. But do you LOVE having clean, sparkling, cavity-free teeth? (I know I do.) Well, it’s the same with dancing, writing, or transforming your body. Learning the thing–dragging your ass to class or the gym, sitting down to write every day–isn’t fun. But there’s a sense of pride and accomplishment that comes after the fact, a payoff that’s greater than the sum of its parts. That’s what I’m trying to remind myself, because I have things I want to happen that won’t until I start the not-fun work, that good results come from ritual; they don’t just materialize. It’s just a matter of getting into a habit.

And no, not a nun’s habit.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Every stress and trauma in your life is written somewhere in your body.

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Another Pair of Eyes (Blog #689)

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Each night for the last week I’ve been watching the Netflix series Russian Doll. It’s fascinating (and I haven’t finished yet, so don’t tell me how it ends). Anyway, there was a great line in last night’s episode (season one, episode six). Then this morning while scrolling through my Facebook memories, I unearthed three lovely quotes that I shared long before this blog started. Therefore, I’ve decided today’s musings shall be quote-inspired (and there’s nothing you can do about it). So without further ado–

1. From Russian Doll

Okay, here’s the set up. The main character, Nadia, and her friend Alan are visiting Nadia’s mentor, Ruth, a therapist, and Nadia is trying to get Alan to see Ruth professionally. However, Alan is terrified of therapists; they’re his biggest fear. Something is said about how Nadia’s mother once destroyed all the mirrors in their house, and Alan says, “Why?” Ruth says, “Reflection, proof of existence, another pair of eyes. That’s why therapists are important. Without them, we are very unreliable narrators of our own stories.”

We are very unreliable narrators of our own stories. Amen. So many times I’ve thought that I was doing poorly, and my therapist has reminded me that from almost anyone else’s perspective, I wasn’t. Likewise, so many times I’ve explained away another’s poor behavior, and my therapist has been there to remind me about my personal worth and how to have and enforce good boundaries. Another pair of eyes. Sure, I have friends who do this–provide a different perspective–but I’ve found it invaluable to have a less partial perspective, one that comes from someone who doesn’t approach me or my relationships with a bias or stake in the game.

2. From Eckhart Tolle

Here’s a quote I shared in 2012, from Tolle’s A New Earth. I guess technically it’s two quotes put together. Anyway–“Whenever tragic loss occurs, you either resist or you yield. … If the shutters are closed, the sunlight cannot come in.” I love this, the quote, not the actual practice of surrendering or yielding when something terrible happens. Letting go and admitting I’m not in control is one of the hardest things I ever try to do. I’d much rather dig my heels in, try to fix things. But some things aren’t fixable. In terms of the part about the closed shutters, the picture I get is of someone with their eyes squeezed tight, so afraid of terrible things that they’re unwilling to take another look at the world around them. But what if we opened our eyes, opened our hearts to another perspective? Maybe there’s some good here.

3. From Albert Einstein

This quote is one I shared in 2010 and says, “The most important decision we ever make is whether we believe we live in a friendly universe or a hostile universe.” Wow, talk about the importance of perspective. Personally, I believe we live in a friendly universe. However, I’m the first to admit that I often act as if I believe we live in a hostile universe. That is, whenever I’m sick or broke or something terrible happens, I take it as a personal affront, a hostile attack. And yet so many times the terrible things in my life have turned out to be the most helpful things, the things that taught me and grew me the most, the things that put me in touch with my own good heart. So even when I’m frustrated because it feels like somebody up there has put a “kick me” sign on my back, I try to remember, This is a friendly universe. That means even if I can’t see it yet, there has to be some good here somewhere.

4. From my man Joseph Campbell

This last quote is one I shared in 2013. (JC and I go way back.) It says, “I always feel uncomfortable when people speak about ordinary mortals because I’ve never met an ordinary man, woman, or child.” How perfect is that? This quote reminds me, again, to shift my perspective, to remember that all of us are truly wonders, capable of great love and far-reaching deeds. Granted, society beats this out of us. We beat this out of each other. We tell each other and ourselves that we’re lacking, real pieces of shit, worms. But maybe there’s some good here. Maybe there’s a lot of good here. Maybe we should take a look at ourselves with another pair of eyes.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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We don’t get to boss life around.

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Broccoli Doesn’t Taste Like Chocolate Cake (Blog #688)

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After finding out this week that I was (and am) allergic to several common household ingredients (six to be exact), I determined today to get a handle on the situation. So after having breakfast with a friend of mine this morning, I went to Walmart this afternoon. Armed with my Safe Skin app, which compares the ingredients in everyday products to my allergens and tells me whether or not the products are safe for me to use, I spent two hours in the store. Y’all, I scanned over fifty products–shampoos, conditioners, toothpastes, deodorant, soaps, you name it–but walked out with only two things that met my app’s approval–baby lotion (for moisturizing) and unscented dental floss (for flossing my teeth, duh).

Back at the house, I spent some time looking through the app. There’s a section that lists approved products by category (hair, makeup, skin, personal, household). This turned out to be a miracle, since I was able to flag certain items that I could hunt for later in person or online, which is what I ended up doing after dinner tonight. Again armed with my app, I first went to Target. There I found an approved shampoo (but not the corresponding conditioner) and an approved antiperspirant/deodorant.

Yippee. A product perfect for my pits.

After Target I went to Walgreens, which turned out to be a goldmine. There I found not only the corresponding conditioner I needed for my shampoo, but also a bar of soap (a bar of soap!) and a mouthwash I can use. I seriously can’t tell you what a relief this was–not to pay five dollars for a super basic, hypoallergenic bar of soap–but to know that I can take a shower tomorrow without irritating my skin. Now I have everything I need–soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

What I don’t have still is an app-approved toothpaste or shaving cream. Thankfully, these products do exist, I’ll just need to order them online. And whereas I’m making this whole process out to be a national emergency–because starting over with everything that touches my skin feels overwhelming–it’s really not. I’ve already flagged the items I want on Amazon (including a cheaper option for bar soap), and it’s not like my skin can’t wait until I order them and they arrive. I mean, thankfully, most of my allergic reactions are quite mild.

I wish I could say for the same for my internal reactions, my need to classify everything that goes wrong in my life or body as a national emergency. It always feels like I have to come up with an answer, a solution, right here, right now, like if something doesn’t heal this very damn minute, it never will. Seriously, I have to remind myself multiple times a day that I didn’t get into my current position overnight and most likely won’t get out of it overnight either. I’ve been rehabbing my leg for nearly two months and going to the gym to work out the rest of my body for a month now, and just today I looked in the mirror and noticed a small difference in my muscles. So I’m telling myself it’ll probably be like this for my skin too–a little progress here, a little progress there.

As I’ve recently changed my diet (to help support my body in healing my injured knee), and now this skin thing has come up, it occurred to me today that I’m being asked (by the universe, by myself) to pay close attention to everything I put in my body and on my body. And although this is frustrating as hell because broccoli don’t taste like chocolate cake and hypoallergenic skincare products are difficult to research and find, I do think it’s important to do the hard work and take care of myself. Charlie Goldsmith, a healer, says it’s an act of self-love to give your body what it needs. Granted, it can be difficult to know what your body needs at times, so you may have to experiment. But surely one can only benefit from eating well and cutting out those things that are known to irritate their body, and surely we have time to figure out the rest.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It’s enough just to be here.

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On Being Irritated (Blog #687)

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Last night I dreamed I was being bitten by mosquitoes. I hate mosquitoes. When I woke up, my first thought was that the dream had to do with being irritated. Mosquitoes, after all, are SOOO annoying.

This morning I had my third and final appointment with my dermatologist this week. On Monday I got patch tested for skin allergies by being exposed to 74 “common household ingredients.” On Wednesday I found out that I’m immediately allergic to four things, the worst of which is mercury, the most common of which is peppermint. Today I found out that I had “delayed reactions” to two OTHER things–cinnamic aldehyde (cinnamon) and neomycin sulfate (as in Neosporin). Geez. What the hell–delayed reactions? I guess that’s my skin’s way of saying what I’ve said to many an ex-boyfriend–“Initially I thought we’d get along, but now that I’ve had some time to think it over, I can’t see things working out between us.”

Or as Simon Cowell would say, “It’s a no for me.”

Believe it or not, when I got the news about my skin being allergic to a total of six different things, I didn’t freak out. Granted, cinnamon and peppermint are in every mouthwash, toothpaste, and dental floss out there, but whatever, I don’t need to take care of my teeth. After going through a battery of immune system tests last year and being told repeatedly that nothing was wrong, it was actually good to be given an explanation for at least one of my problems–contact dermatitis. And whereas the worst of it (a rash) is already under control, perhaps now we can get the least of it (itchy skin) under control. My dermatologist said, “I know it seems daunting, but all you have to do is avoid these ingredients.”

Encouraged by this pep talk and the ida that I could see results in as little as a month (because that’s how long it takes skin cells to regenerate), I went to the natural food store this afternoon to buy new personal products, since all of mine are on my no-no list. “Just think,” my dermatologist said, “you can go on a shopping spree.” (Like I needed an excuse.) Anyway, armed with a phone app that reads barcodes and compares product ingredients against my allergens, I started checking products. Y’all, I scanned at least two dozen toothpastes, shampoos, conditioners, body lotions, and shaving creams, and–no shit–every one one came back either as “not in our database” or “not safe for you.” (I kept thinking, No soup for you!) And whereas this normally would have sent me over the edge, today, for whatever reason, it made me laugh.

Perhaps this was a grace.

At this point, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Honestly, I think I could keep using the products I’ve been using and survive, since my reactions have been slow and delayed. However, I would like to listen to my body, clean things up, and give my skin a fresh start, so I’ll probably end up ordering some products the app recommends online. And whereas it’s frustrating that my choices are limited (because apparently my no-no ingredients are in EVERYTHING), at least it makes the selection process simpler. Plus, I was only using ONE shampoo, ONE conditioner before, so it’s not like a need a hundred options anyway.

This evening I’ve been telling myself that this isn’t a huge deal. I don’t have a major disease; I have irritated skin. Chances are that’s what my mosquito dream was about last night–the fact that my skin is even more worked up than normal because I haven’t had an antihistamine in a week (because of the testing). But it’s not lost on me that I’m generally irritated and worked up about something. They say that’s common with people who’ve been through  significant trauma–you can’t really calm down because you’re always holding your breath, waiting for the other show to drop. So I want to continue to work on that part of it, to do whatever I can to exhale.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can rise above. You can walk on water.

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On Looking Back (Blog #686)

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It’s Valentine’s Day. No offense to anyone in a relationship, but–balloons, chocolates, and candy–ick. Clearly I’m not in a relationship. And whereas most days I’m okay with that, I admit it–today it’d be nice to have someone to take a selfie with so we could post it on social media and make all the single people out there jealous. Now, what I’d do with this person the other 364 days of the year, I don’t know. Anyway, in order to NOT be jealous of all the lovely couples out there posting pictures, I’ve tried to stay off the internet today. I say tried–I’ve only been mildly successful.

This afternoon I started worrying about finances. That’s a great thing to do on a day when you already don’t feel great. Then I started getting a headache and maybe a fever blister, so I took a nap. Sometimes this is my best strategy when I can’t find a good-feeling thought. Unfortunately, the nap didn’t last long, and I woke up still overwhelmed. But then a friend who’s a great listener and always makes me laugh called, and we solved the world’s problems for almost an hour. Now I don’t feel fabulous, but I don’t feel awful either, which I consider an improvement.

I guess there’s something about getting your worries and concerns out–saying them to a friend, writing them down on paper (or the internet) that makes them feel more manageable. I guess it gives you room to breathe. That’s something I’ve been trying to do lately–breathe. (I’ve also been trying to stay off the internet today). I feel like my body is asking me to breathe, to slow down, in a dozen different ways, and I really am trying to give myself a break. And yet there’s all this stress. Wayne Dyer says you could search the world over and never find enough stress to fill up a bucket. That is, it’s all in your head. I would add, however, it’s also in your body. When I get worked up, I get a headache, maybe a fever blister. I break out in hives.

Put me in a bucket, Wayne.

Yesterday I told myself that I was going to take myself to a movie this afternoon. Since Valentine’s is the day of love, I reasoned, I might as well spend it with someone I care about. Alas, this plan didn’t happen. Instead, I went to the grocery store, where I bought a basketful of fruits and vegetables because I’m trying to add juices to my diet. I say trying because when I got home and made my first juice (spinach, celery, pineapple, and ginger), I discovered our blender is officially a wimp. Seriously, what’s the point of having blades and a motor if you’re no match for a stalk of celery? But whatever, I made it work. And you should have seen me drinking that green stuff. I felt so freakin’ healthy.

Then I had tacos for dinner.

Earlier when I was talking to my friend, I brought up a few bad days from my past–the day my dad went to prison, for example. I said, “Compared to that day, today was a breeze.” And not that I think a day has to be the worst day ever in order to be recognized as difficult. I really hate when you’re struggling and someone says, “It could be worse” or “There are starving children in India.” Granted, it could be worse–things can always be worse–and that doesn’t mean you’re not struggling right here, right now. Still, I do think it’s important to remember that things HAVE BEEN worse–not because pain is a contest–but because looking back can remind you what you’ve come through. It can remind you how strong and capable you are. It can remind you that even the worst situations can come to an end. In short, it can remind you to–

hope.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You've really got to believe in yourself and what you're doing. Again, it comes down to integrity and making something solid of yourself, something that's so well-built on the inside that it can handle any storm.

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On Enjoyment and Being Worthy (Blog #685)

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Today started off well. I had errands to run, so I got up early. I had a lovely breakfast. When I left the house, the sun was shining. (I love the sun.) Then I had some time to kill, so I finished (finished!) yesterday’s paperwork. Then I went to a coffee shop and read a book for a couple hours. (I love reading.) For whatever reason, I delighted in all of this. Lately the idea of enjoyment has been on my mind, and I’ve been trying to soak more of it out of my everyday routine.

I’ll explain.

Most of the time, I’m going, going, going, always thinking about what’s next. For example, sometimes when I eat breakfast and finish everything on my plate, I get up to put my dish and utensils away before I’m done drinking my tea or coffee. I have this inner mantra that constantly sounds like, What else can I DO? Of course, this is a good way to be hyper productive. America loves that. However, it’s a terrible way to relax, since this thinking necessarily leads to never being able to slow down. Another consequence of this mentality is that it always feels like life is something to be enjoyed LATER. I end up thinking, I’ll be happy WHEN (when I put the dishes away, when I’m healthier, when I have more money, when I’m in a relationship).

Frustrated with my own logic, today I tried something different. At breakfast, I forced myself to leave my dirty dishes on the table until I finished my hot tea. Sipping it slowly, I thought, I like tea. Then instead of pacing throughout the house while brushing my teeth with my electric toothbrush, I stood still, closed my eyes, and thought, This is kind of fun; it tickles my tonsils. This continued into the afternoon. Not that I was stupid happy over everything, but I purposefully took time to enjoy the things I normally take for granted or rush through in order to finish–feeling the sun on my skin, listening to Come On, Eileen on my stereo, reading my book. It was fabulous.

Then something happened.

This afternoon I went back to my dermatologist to get the results of my skin patch test. Two days ago they plastered 74 “common household ingredients” to my back to see if my skin would react to them, and today was the moment of truth. (I’ll try to keep this brief.) The good news is that I had ZERO reactions rated as 3, the worst. I did, however, have one reaction rated as 2 (to Thimerosal) and three reactions rated as 1 (to iodopropynyl butylcarbamate, dimethylaminopropylamine, and peppermint oil). And whereas I’ve been all worked up about finding out my skin allergies, I actually took it pretty well. I thought, That’s not so bad. Then my dermatologist said it was so bad. Actually, she said, “It’s sort of a lot.” But then she said, “But not for someone who has rashes [I assumed she was talking about me]. This morning I had a lady who was allergic to 18 things [18!].”

Here’s a picture of my back when they removed the patches. The red spots are difficult to see. I go back in two days to see if I’ve had any delayed reactions. “But wait, there’s more.”

My dermatologist set me up with a supposed-to-be-handy-dandy phone app that keeps track of my allergies and tells me whether or not a particular product (shampoo, washing detergent, deodorant) has one of my no-no ingredients in it. However, when I came home and started scanning barcodes, I discovered that a lot of what I use isn’t currently in the app’s database. Oh well, I thought, I’ll read the ingredients myself. But that ended up being a bitch because some products don’t list their ingredients, and the no-no ingredients often go by, oh, three dozen other names. (Shit.) And another frustrating thing–when the app does identify a problem product (like my mouthwash, for example), it doesn’t say why it’s a problem. That is, it doesn’t say whether or not the issue is one of my four allergens, an allergen that’s similar that goes by a different name, or what. Consequently, I now have a bathroom counter full of products I may or may not be able to use without my skin freaking out.

If you see anything you want, come and get it.

Overwhelmed by all this information, I took a nap earlier. Having rested, I feel better. For one thing, I’ve only had ONE major skin rash this last year. And whereas it was awful, it got better when I changed my laundry detergent. For another, my allergies are three out of four mild, and the one that is moderate (Thimerosal, otherwise known as mercury) isn’t used in many things (other than vaccines, thermometers, and some antifungals and cosmetics). Granted, the mild allergens are used in many things, but we live in a world where there are tons of alternative natural options, and surely I can only benefit from finding out what they are and using them.

As I said yesterday, I can do hard things.

Another thing that’s been on my mind today is the word worthy. I prefer the word worthy over the word deserve. That is, I don’t think as humans we really DESERVE anything–good health, money, praise and adoration, a loving relationship. But I do believe we are all WORTHY of these things. Anyway, the word worthy came up while I was thinking about enjoyment, my thought being that we are all WORTHY to enjoy anything we want–a cup of hot tea, the sun on our skin, a good book–even if everything else in our life isn’t perfect. For me, that means that I can enjoy my book even if my shoulder hurts while I’m reading it. It means I can enjoy my dermatologist (love her) even if I don’t like the news she delivers. It means I can enjoy my dinner (I just ate a burger patty and a sweet potato) even if I don’t know what shampoo I’ll be using tomorrow.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Solid help and solid hope are quite the same thing.

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I Can Do Hard Things (Blog #684)

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What to talk about?

After we discovered multiple leaks under our kitchen sink a couple days ago, yesterday my dad called a plumber, who came by late last night. Then he, or rather someone else he called, came by this morning and fixed everything. And not that it’s about me, but the plumber said my efforts to patch a particular copper pipe with putty (say that five times fast) could have worked had the line been drained and completely dry. “They claim that stuff works on a wet surface, but it doesn’t,” he said.

So much for truth in advertising!

It’s probably good my efforts didn’t work, since there were also two other leaks, one of which I knew about and one of which I didn’t. Anyway, all three leaks have been taken care of, and it didn’t break the bank. Phew. Now all that’s left to do is replace one piece of rotten wood underneath the sink and reattach a couple other pieces of wood under the cabinets. Perfect project for a rainy day.

And god knows there’s plenty of those in the forecast.

Several months ago I worked backstage for the national tour of The Wizard of Oz. And whereas it was exhausting, I absolutely loved it. Not only did I learn a lot and have a ton of fun, I met some darling people, several of whom I’m still in touch with. Anyway, let’s talk about magnets. While I was working backstage I wanted to buy a show magnet as a souvenir, since I have a show magnet collection, and I try to add to it whenever I see a Broadway play or musical. (Some shows don’t sell magnets. Harrumph. I’m talking at you, Cabaret.) Unfortunately, The Wizard of Oz didn’t have magnets to sell, since they were on backorder.

I wish I could tell you I didn’t lose sleep over this.

Okay, fast forward to recently, when I asked one of my friends who works backstage for the tour (Kelsey) if she would send me a magnet. “You bet,” she said. Well, I went to the mailbox today, and there it was! Plus, Kelsey surprised me with a Wizard of Oz Tour ball cap. Y’all, I can’t tell you how excited I was (and am) about this. The last few days I’ve been discouraged by life in general (too many rainy days), but this kind gesture picked me right up. Not only do I love, love, love getting to add to my magnet collection (which, other than books is my only collection), the magnet and hat have sent me over the moon because of my personal connection to the show. All day I’ve been thinking, Life ain’t so bad!

Thanks again, Kelsey!

I spent this afternoon at the library doing paperwork. I can’t tell you how badly I didn’t want to and how much I futzed around trying to put it off. But then I finally sat down and got started. Do one thing at a time, I told myself. Three hours later, I was 90 percent done. Now my goal is to do the rest tomorrow. Having come this far, the last 10 percent doesn’t scare me. Plus, as my friend Bonnie is constantly reminding me, I can do hard things. At this point, I’m actually looking forward to checking “paperwork” off my to-do list.

I’ve touched on this a number of times lately, but it occurs to me again that just getting started is a HUGE thing. This last weekend I was all worked up about a writing project, then Monday I was all worked up about getting patch tested at the dermatologist’s office, then today I was all worked up about the paperwork. But now the writing project is done, and the patch testing and the paperwork will be done tomorrow. I don’t know, as I was working today, I reviewed my calendar and was reminded that last year I took several big trips, helped some friends pack their two houses so they could move to Colorado, and successfully came through knee surgery. So what’s a little paperwork? I just think this is important to keep in mind, since we all have tasks we’re afraid of tackling. But again, it’s simply a matter of getting started, doing one thing at a time, and remembering, I can do hard things.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can’t stuff down the truth—it always comes up.

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Take a Year If You Need It (Blog #683)

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I didn’t sleep well last night. I guess I was worked up/ worried about the leaks under our kitchen sink and a few things I’m not looking forward to this week including Valentine’s Day (because I’m single AF). Much to my chagrin, I discovered when I got up this morning that my efforts to stop one of the leaks didn’t work. Boo hiss. Anyway, my dad called a plumber, so now we’re waiting. And whereas I wish I could have handled the problem myself, sometimes you simply need reinforcements.

I’m talking to you, people who learn to dance on YouTube.

This afternoon I went to my dermatologist’s office for the first of three visits this week because I’m being patch tested to see what “common household ingredients” my skin reacts to. My dermatologist suggested the test when she found out I had some issues last year that were most likely connected to a laundry detergent I was using at the time. Anyway, the testing process consists of having 74 different potential irritants exposed to your back and–later–seeing how your skin responds. That is, I go back in two days to see if I’ve had an immediate reaction, then again two days after that to see if I’ve had a delayed reaction.

My whole life feels like a delayed reaction.

Last summer I was tested for allergies via a test in which my skin was actually scratched three dozen times or so. Thankfully, I didn’t get scratched today; the potential irritants were adhered to me. Below is a picture of what my back looked like right after the patches were stuck on. Tonight’s main photo was taken after this one, and it shows what my back looks like now–covered in tape to keep everything secure. The nurse told me, “No antihistamines, no showers [a bath is okay if my upper back stays dry], and no excessive sweating.”

“But a moderate amount of sweating is okay?” I asked, thinking, I don’t control my sweat glands, lady.

Eight hours after having the patches stuck on, I feel fine. A few times today I’ve felt a little itchy in a spot or two, but not all over. Of course, I’m paranoid that my skin is freaking out and am imagining that I’m allergic to everything the Dow Chemical Company every invented. The nurse did say, “Sometimes people blister and don’t even feel it.” BLISTER! Still, whatever will happen will happen, and I’m telling myself this is just information, and the more information I have the better. Not to mention, somehow I’ve survived in the world of “common household ingredients” this long.

Otherwise, today’s been whatever. When I left the dermatologist’s office, I forced myself to go to the library and do some paperwork. Woo. Every since then I’ve had a headache, this low-level throb that won’t let go no matter what I try. It’s just demanding enough that it’s hard to write, focus, or be optimistic. (Insert period of time here.) Okay, I just took (more) pills. I’m going to the gym later and don’t want to be miserable. Sometimes you simply need reinforcements.

Earlier this evening I saw my friend Bonnie and told her that despite a part of my brain knowing “this too shall pass” and that I’ll feel differently about things (Valentine’s Day, my health, my life) later, most of my brain feels like every current challenge in my life is permanent. Like, Hang it up, Marcus. Nothing ever gets better. Bonnie said, “That’s not what you’d tell a friend, though.” And she’s right, I wouldn’t. I’d say, “Sweetheart, everything changes. Give it a day or two. Take a year if you need it. You’ll feel differently soon enough.” So I’m trying to be patient with both life and myself. I’m trying to talk to me like a friend would.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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A break is no small thing to give yourself.

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We’ll Deal with the Dishwasher Later (Blog #682)

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Well shit. It’s just after midnight, and five hours ago, after eating dinner, I started a small project. By small, I mean not small at all. I’ll explain. For months, since before my knee injury and surgery, our dishwasher has leaked. And whereas we haven’t been able to fix the problem, even with a new gasket, we’ve been able to catch the majority of the leak in a small bucket. But today we discovered a puddle of water on the floor in front of our sink (which is next to our dishwasher) and knew we had a bigger problem, since our dishwasher hadn’t been running.

As it turns out, in addition to the dishwasher leak (we’ll deal with the dishwasher later), we’ve had two leaks under our sink. Two! The first and most obvious is due to the device used to pipe water to our refrigerator. It’s faulty. After I Googled the problem, I learned this piece of equipment is one of the most hated by plumbers and is illegal in many states. It’s also a part you can’t replace on a Sunday night in Van Buren, Arkansas. Therefore, it continues to leak, but we do have (another) bucket catching the water.

The other leak, I’m afraid, is more problematic and is coming from a copper (hot water) pipe in the wall. I thought to look here because water was seeping under the wall and into our living room carpet, as well as into our kitchen. As I had to tear out some sheet rock under the sink to get to the copper pipe, I really made a damn mess. Plus, I had to rip out a thin sheet of plywood from under the sink, as well as some quarter round and a piece of particle board underneath our kitchen cabinets in order to see how extensive the water damage was.

Here’s a picture of what I discovered after I tore out the thin sheet of plywood. Notice the big water spot. That’s rotten wood and is all soft like a sponge. Ick. (Wood’s supposed to be hard.) One of the two copper pipes hiding in the back on the left is one of the referred to leak-causing culprits.

Rather than calling a plumber and shelling out a bunch of money to replace the copper pipe, Dad suggested we “try some of that stuff they sell on TV,” Flex Seal. So off we went to Walmart. Alas, we bought the tape kind (since the spray kind isn’t safety tested for potable water), and that didn’t work because the leak is apparently in a bend in the pipe, and it’s hard to wrap thick sticky tape around a bend. Oh well, it was only twelve dollars. So after doing some more Googling, I went back to Walmart and bought some JB Weld WaterWeld, a putty, which, after turning off the water supply to our house, I applied all around the bend (and then some).

That was an hour ago, and according to the directions, the putty should be dry by now. Of course, I hope it works. That would solve at least one of our two leaks. (We’ll deal with the dishwater later.) But who knows what will happen. I could turn the water back on, reach back to feel the pipe, and discover I’m no further along than I was five hours ago. Ugh. I guess there’s only one way to find out.

Otherwise, it’s been a dandy day. This afternoon I finished the writing project I started yesterday and can’t tell you how good it feels. Hell, for two straight days I went to Starbucks, set up my laptop, and pounded the keyboard while listening to Elton John, and it was actually fun. I’m sort of disappointed I don’t have a project to work on tomorrow. Well, other than the sink. But really, it’s just a reminder to me that whatever you focus your attention on can be interesting and enjoyable once you get started.

Okay, moment of truth. I’m going to turn the water on and check the leak. Hang tight.

Insert period of time here.

Well crap. At first the patch appeared to work, but then it didn’t. I hate that. Oh well, I turned the water off again and put some MORE putty on the pipe. Now we wait–all night. With any luck, the patch will dry harder and do what what it claims to do–stop leaks. If not, STOP–IT’S PLUMBER TIME. (That’s a 90s music/MC HAMMER joke, Mom.)

Water leaks are such a mess, can cause such a mess. And whereas one leak is bad enough, we have two. (We’ll deal with the dishwasher later.) But this is the deal–problems rarely show up one at time. Everything in your kitchen leaks. You blow out your knee, then your skin falls apart. Whatever. More and more, I’m learning to appreciate the process–identify your problems, solve your problems. Granted, I don’t like the process–I don’t like the crick I have in my neck thanks to tonight’s drama either–but I do appreciate it. (The process, not the crick.) And at least we have more information than we did before, at least we know what DOESN’T work, at least we’re one step closer to finding out what does.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Give yourself an abundance of grace.

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Get It Over With (Blog #681)

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This afternoon I went to Starbucks to work on a writing project I’ve been dreading tackling for weeks. Truth be told, I always dread writing. I make it out to be this big thing in my head. I probably won’t know what to say. It’s going to be awful, worse than drinking a bottle of cough syrup. With respect to today’s writing project, this monologue has been building momentum for days, and earlier today I almost convinced myself to procrastinate this thing until next week. After all, I do have an ingrown fingernail on my right pinky, and since it smarts every time I hit the enter key, I figured I had a legitimate medical reason for staying home and watching Netflix.

Alas, I ended up telling myself, Marcus, you’re never in the mood to write. No writer is ever in the mood to write until they start writing, and dragged my happy little ass and not-so-happy ingrown fingernail to Starbucks. Still, despite the fact that I was there, I stalled–ordered a drink, checked my Facebook, took forever organizing my papers, went to pee. Finally, after staring at a blank page and thinking real hard for fifteen minutes, I wrote my first paragraph. Then my second, then my third. Then I was on a roll, and just like that, two hours flew by. Two hours, that was my self-imposed time limit. Just work for two hours, Marcus. See what you can get done in two hours.

When two hours was up, I’d finished over half of my project. What’s more, I’d actually had fun. Not only had I gotten out of the house (and run into a friend), but I’d also created something I was proud of. There was all this buildup about it not turning out well, but at some point during the process I thought, Hell, Marcus, YOU ARE A WRITER.

After packing up my things at Starbucks, I came home for a snack then headed back out to the gym. They close early on the weekends, so that was part of the reason I limited myself to two hours of writing. Plus, I figured I didn’t have to burn through the entire project in one sitting. It’ll be there tomorrow. Anyway, I’m actually starting to enjoy the gym. I have spent quite a bit of time there “in my younger days” and have started to remember what it’s like to push yourself and see results. Today while working on my shoulders, I rolled up my sleeves because they’re starting to get a hint of definition (my shoulders, not my sleeves). Oh my god, how exciting, I thought, I have muscles!

GRRR.

While at the gym, I noticed a teenager in a knee brace. I wonder if he’s had surgery, I thought. Sure enough, there was a red scar on the front of his leg. I don’t know, maybe having knee surgery is like that deal when you buy a new car then suddenly notice EVERYONE ELSE has the same car you do, since I’m beginning to spot people of all ages who’ve apparently been through the same thing I have. Hell, last night I found out that my celebrity crush, Zac Efron, recently tore his ACL and had surgery. (He’s currently on crutches.) But really, is that bizarre or what? He even injured his left knee, just like I did.

When I told my mom about this fascinating coincidence, she said, “Well if that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.” (Everyone’s a comedian.) “I know,” I said. “It’s meant to be.”

You can’t always trust your thoughts and feelings.

Now it’s nine in the evening, and I’m excited about finishing this blog and having the rest of the night to myself. Maybe I’ll read a book, maybe I’ll watch a movie. Either way, I’m really leaning into this idea of being able to make progress by spending an hour here, an hour there on something. For example, it’s been just over six weeks since my knee surgery, and I really am getting around better and growing stronger, and it’s all happened an hour at a time. Likewise, I made noticeable progress today with my writing project, and it was just a small slice of my day. Now I’ve got six hundred words that I didn’t have before. Also, I’m learning that you can’t always trust your thoughts and feelings. That is, if there’s something you’re dreading, guaranteed, you’re going to think and feel differently about it after having done it. So whether it’s a creative project, a trip to the gym or doctor’s office, or a hard conversation, just get it over with. You’ll be glad you did, I promise.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Bodies are so mysterious, much more complicated than car doors. They take more patience to understand and work with. They require more than a couple hours to repair.

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