THANKFUL FRIDAY

I was talking to a coworker friend the other day who had stayed home from work in order to take her dog to the vet for a bladder infection. She said "I just can’t take one more thing.” and I nodded with empathy. I get it. Things have been exceptionally difficult lately. It seems like Fall rolled in with an agenda to kill me. First it was my knee. Then the theft of lovely V. While at camp, I developed a large painful and gross cyst in an inappropriate place. Our camp nurse, Jenn, was concerned that it might be a spider bite. So she drove me to the ER in Rolla, MO. where two sixteen year old boys called “doctors” poked around on the cyst before sending me away with antibiotics. Now my left thumb hurts and I don’t even know what I did to it. Maybe I slept on it wrong? Last night, Michael noticed a rash forming on my back and now I’m worried I might have shingles because that’s where my brain goes.

This season has been a little dangerous and not in a fun dangerous kind of way.

Except, Fall doesn’t know that I’m made of stronger stuff. I’m killing it with my physical therapy exercises, working my way into having buns of steel because apparently strong glutes help with stable knees. Michael and I are planning a day trip to the Vespa dealership in St. Louis for some scooter shopping. I don’t care for the Vespa dealership in town. When I rode my scooter over with Michael to trade in his old one for a new one, one of the guys asked “So, is he going to let you ride on the back of his scooter?” To which I replied “Are you going to give me your commission on this sale, because he’s here because of me.” Then I ripped his face off (in my head). I’d rather not go back there. The cyst is gone and I’m practically back to normal. I took some ibuprofen this morning and my thumb no longer hurts. I’m not thinking about the rash for now and I’m not about to gloat or say something like “Bring it, Fall!”. Instead, I’m putting myself on high alert for what might be next. I mean, I’m not tentatively crouching around corners or anything. I am just acutely aware that I need to be paying extra attention to my surroundings and my actions. The thing is, we’re all struggling a bit right now and we could all benefit from some mindful cautious moving.

On our last evening at camp, we danced around a bonfire down by the river. The sky was clear and Michael pulled up his star finder app and discovered that all of the planets were aligned with each other. He went around showing everyone who would listen, which was basically everyone at this camp. Maybe this was the beginning of putting things back together. Maybe this was the start for mindfulness. I don’t know, but I am grateful for the reminder to carefully place one foot in front of the other. I am grateful for the reminder to be mindful that others are also struggling and to lead with an empathetic heart.