Yesterday I awoke really early, feeling at long last semi-normal. YES! The flu was finally behind me--my body had mended and I could enjoy it sans pain and discomfort! I was able to begin the day with my yoga routine, cycle a bit and looked forward to walking with my husband once he awoke.
That is ... until ... while moving from the family room (where I'd begun working on our taxes) into the kitchen one of our cats hurried in front of me where somehow her body became enmeshed with my moving legs. Within seconds my back jerked into spasm as I attempted to un-twine our kitty and %~*@#! The jolt of pain was swift and severe.
Frankly I was stunned by my reaction. I screamed and then screamed some more. So many choice expletives left my lips that even I felt slightly offended. Our cat ran as far away as quickly as possible. Which was probably a good thing, as in that moment she was whom I was blaming (and loudly). When I eventually made it into our bedroom I was in tears. The words, "I can't believe this is happening to me" came stuttering out. In my mind (or maybe out loud--not sure) I thought, "I don't deserve this!"
Nope. No one deserves that sort of start to their day. But I, of all people, know that stuff happens. I realized that I'd been engaging in my long-ago habit of magical thinking--if I do everything right (get plenty of rest, take my vitamins, etc., etc.,) I'll be "safe"--it's a thought process I thought I'd abandoned, but evidently not.
Tom played his role of help-mate perfectly. Did not comment on the very loud and rude way he was awakened. Said not a word about the obscenities coming out of my mouth. Offered no advice and made no attempt to fix. Instead, he simply said, "How can I help?" After yelling "Kill the cat" (can you tell how really angry I felt?) I asked that he help me wrap a frozen package of peas around my wounded area with an ace bandage and rummage through my pill box for the muscle relaxers and pain meds that had been prescribed for me back in November for a similar (although not cat-related) experience. He silently and compassionately did everything I asked.
Wow! I was just a tad out of control...watching myself the whole time, even curious about why I might be responding so strongly to what a few months before I'd accepted as "something that happens"--not fun, but it too would pass. I could see no silver linings yesterday. I was angry nearly all day, until I eased my aching body back into bed for the evening.
Fortunately, I awoke with a clear head and a much brighter outlook. And was able to actually go out with Tom and run a few errands. I realize as I write this that I must stop and do something very important before I forget. Tom needs at minimum a gigantic hug and more appropriately a hero's medal for being such a courageous "soldier." He entered a Doris-created-war-zone yesterday and brilliantly chose to allow me to wage the war without him being involved or worse, becoming a casualty. Gotta go tell him so...
[Originally posted on the Gürze Books Eating Disorders Blogs]