He pulls the stethoscope from his ears and thumbs through my chart.
“Have I ever told you that you have a heart murmur?”
“No,” I answer slowly, almost in the form of a question.
“Well, I hear one today. I’m going to have Sherry set you up for an echocardiogram. And it’s time for another bone density scan.”
I sigh. “I need a mammogram, too.”
I had blood work done before my visit, and he scans the results.
“Your TSH is still a bit elevated, but to put you on medication now could do more harm than good. Your cholesterol is good, but your lipids are still a little high. And your vitamin D is quite low.”
Yeah, I’m not surprised. It’s winter.
And I have been eating a lot of M&Ms.
Sigh.
Sherry manages to get all the tests set up on Friday morning.
The letter from the mammography department arrives first. I barely look at it. Every year the same.
No change. Repeat in a year.
I set the letter aside but then glance back and notice the words at the bottom:
“Category 3–probably benign finding. Short interval followup suggested.”
I call the doctor’s office, and Sue tells me they will put me in the tickler file (well, my name anyway) and that I need to have a mammogram repeated in six months. She tells me that they are using a new machine and that a lot of women are getting call-backs because some things (like my calcifications) are being seen more clearly.
I shrug it off.
I call the hospital and ask them to also forward a copy to my gynecologist whom I’m going to see in a couple of days. When I see her, she wags her finger at me and sternly tells me not to take it too lightly. Nor, she says, should I take my diverticular attacks lightly. Even without a fever.
Sigh.
The echo is kind of fun. I can see the heart chambers and the valves and the color flow with each heart throb. The tech and I talk about how I used to work in the operating room and how I always marveled at the miracle of seeing the heart beat strong again after being stilled in the surgeon’s hands.
“It’s the aortic valve that’s leaking,” she says.
I don’t know if she’s supposed to tell me that.
But I’m not surprised.
And a couple of days later, I get the call.
“You have a little bit of sclerosis and a moderate amount of aortic valve insufficiency.”
Actually, there’s more. This I know because I’ve already picked up copies of all my reports.
And so I get to see a cardiologist the end of this month.
The bone density results aren’t back yet. I guess we’ll address that and the vitamin D later. I already take bone medicine.
Sigh.
So how much of this is genetic or aging or simple lack of self-care?
Who knows?
But it’s a wake-up call that I can no longer always put everyone’s needs before my own.
Seriously.
But Parker Palmer says this, “Self-care is never a selfish act–it is simply good stewardship of the only gift I have, the gift I was put on earth to offer others.” ~L.L. Barkat in God in the Yard, p. 97
If I don’t take care of myself, I risk dying early–or at the very least risk becoming so weak that I can’t carry out my gift.
I will have lost any opportunity to truly care for others. ~L.L. Barkat in God in the Yard, p. 97
And so I stop.
And drop.
Everything.
I pour a cup of green tea, head outside, and sit on the top porch step. I wrap my white robe around my bare legs and blend with white siding behind and snow in front.
I breathe in the damp cool air.
I watch and listen to the world melt.
I see the goldfinches snap at each other at the feeder. Juncos play tag in the stark branches. A sparrow lands on a branch just overhead. A downy woodpecker nearly grazes my forehead on its way to the hanging suet cake.
A mourning dove perches on a branch. Alone. I read that they mate for life, and that if you see one alone, its partner has probably died.
I don’t want to leave my partner alone.
And besides, I have a lot of things I want to do and see. I’m not that ready to see Jesus.
And so, with so much to do, I sit.
Just.
Sit.
And later I’ll hit the treadmill.
What will you do to care for yourself this weekend?
Or didn’t you realize that your body is a sacred place, the place of the Holy Spirit? Don’t you see that you can’t live however you please, squandering what God paid such a high price for? The physical part of you is not some piece of property belonging to the spiritual part of you. God owns the whole works. So let people see God in and through your body. ~1 Corinthians 6:19-20 (Message)
First of all, let me say, that after months of deliberating it appears I’m going to have to buy this book. I’ve tried to resist but can’t stand it much longer. š
I must admit, I’ve never been good at self-care. It always sounded “selfish” to me so I used a lot of Scriptures, taken out of context, to justify my position. Sigh.
Funny how the need remains even when we try to silence it. (not funny as in ha, ha but ironic) In the past few months many physical red flags have surfaced in my life. They’ve caused me to rethink the entire subject. After reading this post, I’m grateful for God’s patience with me. Peering at it through another’s window I see how essential it is. Guess it’s time to get the Windex out and look through my window again with a clearer view.
This quote by L.L. Barkat reinforces what God has been speaking to me in recent days. āSelf-care is never a selfish actāit is simply good stewardship of the only gift I have, the gift I was put on earth to offer others.ā ~L.L. Barkat in God in the Yard, p. 97 Thank you for sharing it.
I am beginning to believe that self-care is a form of stewardship. It has taken me months of seeking God to come to that understanding after years of failing to see the truth. Learning to do it, is a discipline just like all the other parts of my spiritual life. It’s a hard lesson for me but extremely valuable.
You are such a gift and have so many gifts. It is my prayer that God will guide and direct those who are instrumental in your care…including you.
Love & prayers!
Itās a balance. All the time a balance. And we seem to think that anything with the word āselfā in it is bad. Selfish, as you say. But it strikes me that when we neglect to feed the fire in our wood stove, it smolders for awhile, then cools off and dies. Feeding and caring for this temple in all dimensions keeps us more effective over the long haul.
We are fearfully and wonderfully made. Magnificent creations. We should take care of this artwork like the valuable treasure it is.
Thank you, and praying for you, too. LYI.
My heart aches.
We should talk via email. We really should.
Or how about a phone chat?
That’s one of the best ideas you’ve ever had! š
Miss Sandra,
I was going to say the same thing as Cassandra…
And about those echos–because of my insulin-dependent diabetes, my son had countless echocardiograms, the majority of which were done while he was still in-utero. Indeed the science of medical care is amazing, but so is the capacity for our body to heal with what God has given us in the form of food and herbs. Both my son and I have personal experience and know it to be true.
Thanks for stopping by. It really means a lot to me during all of this transition.
Blessings.
Miss Darlene,
I emailed you. And I’m holding out my mug for another cup of coffee–I mean, perhaps I should switch to the green tea.
I had a self-care realization in December, my birthday month so began a series of appointments and labs and followups and more labs and more appointments which will no doubt lead to more. It seems catching up costs more than if I had done the timely things in a timely fashion. So, you are in my prayers and I’ll be sitting with you keeping you company.
We don’t always have tomorrow, but there are things we can do to make it more likely. š That procrastination part of me. I. Hate. It.
I’ll keep company with you any day. Praying for you, too.
I love you. XOXOXO
Love. You. More.
under the shadow of His wings … peace as you go through these different tests …
Can’t think of a better place to be.
I like the KJV’s way of putting 1 Corinthians 6:19 reminding me, “What? know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own?” Remembering that we are not our own puts a different perspective on caring for ourselves, doesn’t it?
Medical and dental appointments throw me into panic attacks so I’m not good about getting regular checkups. Thankfully I’m blessed with good health, but I do look after myself, too. I pray your various caregivers will help you through the problems and into a healthier tomorrow.
Thanks, Carol. I’m sure it’s all good. Just enough to remind me to take care of the temple.
Go get a physical. š
Praying for you, sweetie!
It will be all fine, and I will see you in St. Louis. I hope. š
Hi Sandra –
Okay, okay! I’ll go to the dentist. Sigh. I hate going to the dentist. After last year’s crown and gum surgery, I’d prefer to avoid him.
My grandfather lived to 99. He was shoveling snow, scaling ladders, and diving into swimming pools in his 90’s. I think his active, healthy lifestyle kept him free from a lot of the things that plague more sedentary people.
Blessings,
Susan š
I did a lot of tea self-care this weekend. š And retreat, at a little Inn in the middle of New York City, while I spent the rest of my time self-caring at IAM’s Encounter.
And you know what? It’s amazing how many others got cared for in the process. š
Your post touches, and invites. Thanks for opening up the tender parts to us.
I wish I’d felt good enough to sit and enjoy the birds, but I’ve been slammed in bed. Guess God is telling me something, but I thought I was resting.
Good for you to take care of yourself, Snady. And even better that you provide the reminder that taking care of ourselves it taking care of God’s sanctuary.