My house is clean. Well, not the whole house--just the public areas and bathrooms, plus one-third of the basement. I've been reading about different types of self-soothing techniques and habits that promote lowering of stress levels. One of the things that keeps coming up is to maintain a neat, reasonably clean living space. Maybe I would rather meditate or do yoga, after all. Then again, I am enjoying the lack of clutter and visible dust. Also, two thumbs up for Woolite spray-foam rug cleaner. Unlike the other brands I've used, this one actually works.
I am exhausted. Eight days of moving furniture and boxes, as well as dozens of trips up and down the basement stairs, has finally caught up with me.
Pernicious anemia. I've been intently focused on every disturbance in my body--especially the long-term ones--and when I Googled the symptoms, I got a ream of hits citing pernicious anemia. But what do I know? I asked about this two years ago and was told pernicious anemia is incredibly rare and since I eat eggs once a week, no problems are likely. It it were to turn out to be pernicious anemia, it would explain a lot of the many non-specific health problems I've been struggling with for years.
I have a physical scheduled for Wednesday. This is with a new doctor. I haven't had a primary care physician since September of 2007 (click here to find out why). The doctor I'm going to see is a woman and she only sees women patients. She has an outstanding reputation. Not one, but two of my specialists recommended her. My hope is that this doctor will not mock me, and will not make snide comments if I say something to advocate for myself. Maybe she'll even listen--really listen--and figure out why my central nervous system has been disrupting my life for so many years. Here's hoping. (The picture is a picture of my new doctor. She looks so damn familiar. I keep looking at this picture and trying to figure out who she reminds me of. It's driving me crazy because I know she looks exactly like somebody I know, but I just can't place who that is...Hmmm)I was just thinking that getting a complete physical a few days after the end of the month-long indulgence extravaganza known as The Holidays is asking for trouble. I know I've gained weight, and I'm sure my cholesterol is reflecting my indiscretions. Well, at least I can explain.
Last night, I hosted a small party. Getting ready for it kicked my ass, but everything turned out well. The place looked great--Martha Stewart's got nothing on me. I put together the noshies to start, things like olives, cheese, crackers, veggies and dip, etc. I decided that rather than stress over food, I was not going to cook. I called the amazing Indian restaurant down the street and ordered a whole lotta takeout. It was absolutely perfect. I don't think anyone noticed it was all vegetarian.
I wouldn't say my guests are my friends, exactly. They are the women who work on the nonprofit project with me. We are rarely in the same place at the same time. We almost never have time just to visit and get caught up. It was a highly enjoyable evening. I had told everyone that they didn't need to bring anything, but funny stories about refugees were encouraged.
Here's the thing: We hear so many tragic accounts of refugee life, we sometimes absorb that distress. Much of what we do is serious and carried out amidst crisis. However, we also have plenty of days when we witness moments of humanity that are snort-laugh out loud funny. Last night, we told those stories for hours and we laughed hysterically. Much of what we laughed at would only be funny to people who spend a lot of time working with refugees. There was no mocking, no making fun, no disparaging; our stories and laughter were laced with the affection we feel for the population we serve. It was healthy for all of us to remember that there are so many smile-making moments in our work.
I am so damn tired.
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