I was talking to a new doctor the other day: explaining my surgical history. You see, I’ve had the same surgery twice. I first had reconstructive surgery when I was thirteen years old. My spine was an S-curve: both curves around 85-90 degrees. My right lung was collapsing and my heart was being squeezed. I had to have surgery to stay alive. I was and still am grateful to my surgeon.
Yesterday afternoon I was lying on the acupuncture bed, trying (and failing) not to wince when the acupuncturist lightly touched a tender muscle before putting in a needle. I had been traveling for family and was still stiff, sore, and knotted up after the long flights.
Some of these not good days aren’t even bad days. They are just not good. The weather might be gloomy or chillier or windier than normal. I might be even clumsier than I normally am and drop my mug or spill my oatmeal in the morning. I might miss the train and have to wait for another. Or my back might be extra sore, for no reason at all.
Another test of my sanity came from the local wildlife. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m from Texas so I’ve dealt with my fair share of deadly snakes and poisonous insects.
But monkeys? Monkeys are a whole other story. Continue reading “India Part III: I Encounter Monkeys”
For the longest time, I believed that anti-anxiety meds were bad or ineffective. They could anesthetize me or make me less ambitious. I decided that it was just better and, in a weird way, easier to tough things out.