Range of Motion

Every day lately has been about how to get everything possible done and understood and taken care of. Details, details, details. Confusing forms. Deadlines. Putting trust in people I've never seen before. Confusing phone calls. Decisions upon decisions upon decisions.

Do you ever get to the point where you're like, I cannot make ONE MORE decision? I have this limit. A few nights ago, I was heading home late after a long talk with my mom and realized...we probably had nothing for dinner. So I called Wm, and asked what we should do. We started to play the "I don't know ... what do you want to do?" game. Normally, one of us would volunteer something and we'd go with it and move on. But instead, I forcefully said "I cannot decide. Please just decide for me." Then he did, I disagreed, and went ahead and decided anyway.

But that's kinda where I am at. I have roiling in my stomach, in my heart, in my mind. Everything feels locked up and storming.

Of course, this is all exacerbated by the lack of sleep these days. It's a mix of being uncomfortable and muscle aches, not being able to breathe, and all this roiling. And then the not-sleep feeds into more roiling. A gross cycle to be sure.

Tonight was the first night in a couple of weeks that I decided to trust that my body was healing. I went to the gym and did yoga.

Here's what surprised me. Some things were as though nothing had changed. My muscles remembered and didn't fight me. I sunk right into it. I felt my mind clear, my lungs lighten, my circulation moving. Everything just feels... mostly right again.

But.

My range of motion with my arms? Not what it was pre-accident. I didn't push it, but I was surprised when reaching my arm up and over my head ... just didn't go. Or when I brought my arms behind my back and they just. Didn't. Want. To.

I have been coming to terms with the fact that yes, I walked away from my accident and nothing serious is wrong with me. But that also, that was a really, really close call. And ... I'm not quite better yet. And I'm kind of like, come on, body! Stop betraying me and get better!

But I'll tell you what. My dancer's pose is looking pretty sharp. And when I can unburden myself of all these forms and information and insurance—all the buzzy noises in my life right now—I can still find a small piece of inner calm. And I'm willing to reach for more.

And in a couple short weeks, I'll be far, far away. Hopefully closer to 100 percent than I am today. Reaching, reaching, reaching. Awesome.

Baby steps

Today I worked for SIX HOURS.

SIX!

I sat at a desk, dressed semiprofessionally, and did WORK!

I drove my gigantically unnecessary rental car all the way there and all the way back! And I didn't freak out or hurt too badly. I did ache. But ache is not a dealbreaker. Not in this town. Nosireebob!

After that six hours I went to the chiropractor and got crunched and then got rolled out like pizza dough by a massage therapist. (blog post to come on this experience.)

And after two, TWO appointments, I'm starting to feel like my pre-accident self. It is not perfect, but I can turn my head! Like, almost all the way that it's supposed to turn! In both directions!

Now, if I could get rid of this base-of-skull pounding and neckache, I'd be all set. Aaaaaalll set.