layby

We talk about handing over our lives to our Higher Powers. By accepting that we are not in control (or shouldn’t be anyway), we find a way of living that brings us peace.

I am extraordinarily bad at handing over. I seem to have spent my entire adult life trying to run things, so they suit me. Over complicating. Over organising. Over thinking.

Recently, I had no option but to cede control.

I have spent the last 3 months, either unwell, or recuperating. I got sick mid-June and ended up in hospital by July. My usual, ignore everything, I will just get better, this time, didn’t work. And so I found myself in that surreal space of not being well, but not really knowing how sick I really was.

After 18 months of racing around, grieving, helping, facilitating, hand holding, organising, travelling, caring, feeding, shopping for, calming, hearing, cooking etc etc; I suddenly found that my body just stopped.

I felt like I had pulled over into a layby, out of gas, in the dusk, as all that traffic continued to whiz past me.

It gave me pause for thought.

It gave me time to reassess

And for the first time ever, I really felt my age.

I realised just how much I use measured breathing as a stress reliever; relaxation tool; distraction technique. I breathe my way through the hard stuff. And all of a sudden I couldn’t. Nothing more frustrating than being told to take a deep breath, when you really can’t. I found I had to use different tools to physically and mentally relax and move to my happy place.

I was a medical mystery – not really a badge I need to wear. And countless tests, theories and examinations have not solved the mystery. So in the end I came home. To recuperate.

When first admitted to hospital, I had to send some tough messages to whanau and friends, telling them I was ill. To my friend group, who have gone through so much, I hated to be the one causing the worry this time. But if anything the last 18 months has taught me, is its better to keep people informed than throw devastating grenades when it’s all too late. Hard messages, but sent with aroha and care.

And, of course, me and mine were encircled with Aroha and Care. My son and his girl came home for 2 weeks to help out, and to just be there for me. And my baby bro flew in for the day for a surprise visit. Whanau cooked, drove, visited, brought me edible food, once I had tired of the hospital fare. I had flowers, cards and letters. I had mail from overseas. I had so many virtual hugs!

I felt loved

It was hard though.

I am The Helper, The Doer. Needing or accepting help does not come naturally to me. I never want to feel needy, or in the way. But I had no choice but to accept this all, with grace.

I had to find my Voice. There is a tendency to treat the symptoms, and not the patient. When its complex, you can feel like you are not seen. Not listened to.

My brain temporarily left. That brain fog that we get when we are sick was initially a blessing. I could gloss over all the Big Scary Things they were looking for. I could just Be. The hard bit was when the fog started to clear. And all of those 2am fears woke me up – more often than the temperature taking nurses. What if this was it? What if my time was done? Or what if this was to be my life going forward? There is no magic cure for those thoughts and fears. I am blessed though. Having a recovery circle that stretches around the world, when the 2am thoughts arrived, they were seen off with some sarcastic quip from a friend in the North.

Coming home was lovely. Until I realised that I wasn’t going to just snap back. I think the true realisation of how sick I have been, has hit me, when I see how long it is taking to get back to normal. Tiredness, breathlessness, that bloody endless cough, lack of appetite, and did I mention tiredness?

It has been a 1000 baby steps. And I’m still not there. But learning to slow down and take it easy is a life lesson worth learning. Because I truly believe that my previous approach to life, of just carrying on endlessly, is how I got here in the first place.

I have learned so much in a few short months.

There is much I hope to never take for granted again

There are things I want to hang on to. And things I am now happy to discard

I am reassessing relationships and what they bring to my life. How I treat others, and how they treat me.

I am working towards how I want to live. Not sure how I will get there, but I know what it looks like now.

I have been back in my beloved bush. Outside, near water, under the big trees. 4 weeks in hospital is so far from my natural habitat; I think that is what I missed the most. I know I need to feel connected to the great outdoors in some way.

I know I need to move. Either walking or cycling (fingers crossed). But I’m not really happy just lounging around.

I know I need to write. The brain fog just frustrates me. The inability to put my thoughts down. To catch them as they float past. I know I love words; and when I kept losing them, it was awful.

I know I can use my Recovery tools in my everyday life. That the pause, the waiting, the reaching out, the vocalising my needs; are all tools that helped me.

That to just accept “what you cannot change”, is a real treasure.

To just Be, is healing

And I know the people I truly love. Those who I would have been devastated leaving.

So, I think, sometimes your Higher Power, just steps in. pulls you to the side of the road. Prises your fingers off the steering wheel and just makes you stop.

And for that I am grateful

E hoa ma, ina te ora o te tangata

My friends, this is the essence of life