This year was different. I'm sure I've said that every year before one. But this year I truly understood the value of health. It was always something I'd taken for granted. We get sick, or injured, and then we get better and press on. 2024 decided I needed to understand health, and respect it, on a much deeper level.
We had our colds and stomach bugs at the beginning of the year. A notable bug hit Emily and my daughter in the last days of our summer road trip. Both of them had a miserable time on the very long journey home. But then came Emily's stomach surgery. Since the valve between her esophogas and stomach stopped working, they had to spin her stomach to pinch off a new valve. The surgery was painful and the recovery very long. In the midst of this, one her best friends began her battle with stage 4 cancer. It has been a long hard fight...one she is still fighting. Then my son comes down with pneumonia. My daughter gets a ruptured ear-drum. I thought that I had yet again escaped any major illness or injury. I have done it so often that it has become a running joke of the family.
Not this time though. Emily's best friend? The one battling cancer (like a badass, I might add)? It all started with some back pain. So when I got some tingling in my fingers, the kind I think most middle-aged people would write off as the wages of getting older, I decided to take the precautionary route. After one MRI I was referred to a spinal surgeon. Turns out an old cheerleading injury from high-school had deteriorated and was threatening to paralyze me from the neck down.
I'm now post spinal surgery and feeling ok, given what just happened. But with it behind me, I have room to reflect.
I have never been that terrified in my life. From the immediate referral to the surgeon, to the image on the MRI screen, to wondering if I would be able to walk into the OR prep room a month and a half away - I was terrified I'd become a burden to those around me. I have an unspoken bet with my wife on who will be pushing who when we get old. I'd always figured she'd be in the wheelchair. I had not factored in that it could be me. I wasn't ready to let go of that being our course.
Being a man always meant being defined by what I do. Whether it be mentally or physically, being a father, a husband, and an employee hinged mainly on my performance along these factors. Ironically I became a therapist that requires me to master emotion lifting and processing in all of the above listed roles. Yet it was having having my body taken out from underneath me that really left a mark on me (quite literally it would seem). I've had to ask for help to do so many mundane things. From Christmas decorations (thanks Sean), to burners and pots (thanks Sean), and even hand washing dishes (that one is Emily). I haven't been able to cook. I haven't been able to clean. All repairs are on hold indefinitely. Humbling is too small a word and mortifying is self-indulgent. This turned into a reckoning of who I really am and what really defines me. I've had to just be. Which leads to my next reflection.
Defining oneself by what one does means that when one stops doing, there is a crisis of identity. The worst part is, I know this is not real. But it feels so real. In my day job I work to help others recognize they have value because they exist in this random, inexplicable, and often maddening world. And I often warn that if they do not respect their heart's, mind's, or body's boundaries enough, those parts of them will come to collect by shuttng them down. It could be argued that my injury had been deteriorating for some time and it was part of the randomness of the world that it just so happened to show itself now. But I'd like to believe that it is because I listened to my body for once, instead of just grinding on (again, literally) that I stopped something terrible from happening.
The last reflection is again based on the previous. I have been forced to slow down. But if I had not acted, it could have meant a perpetual slow down. So I am taking my slow down very seriously. I am resting as much as possible. Naps have made a triumphant return. At my wife's encouragement I am reading books that are healing, rather thn the books I think I "should" read. And I am tuning into what my body needs: Don't bend like that. Put that off...it can wait. Watch that movie you wanted to watch three years ago. Close your eyes. Breathe. You have time. Now.
I could end this with caution to listen to your body. I could wag my finger at all the times you have ignored what your body says you should and shouldn't do. That would make me a hypocrite seeing as how only recently did I give its warnings due credence. What I will end on is gratitude. I'm appreciative of cool breezes through the window and soft pillows. The immense amount of empathy and checking in that people have done is something I'm so grateful for. I'm appreciative of the time I'm getting to focus on the launch of my book and writing fun things like this. I'm grateful for having caught this when I did. I'm grateful for the doctors and insurance that mended the problem. My workplace never blinked when I said I needed to do this and would be out for a while. There is bottomless gratitude for my family and how they've taken care of me, body, mind, and soul. I'm grateful just to be.
But seriously...discourage people from cheerleading.
I join you in gratitude and thanksgiving.🥰