EATING

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My Christmas bulb in bloom!

I’m eating. I don’t mean from hunger. I know why. The PT secretary threw my receipt at me. My only satisfaction is that it rolled off the counter down onto her desk and she had to put it back up again.

When she began to harangue me from the week before I told her “No more from you. It goes nowhere. When you’re finished writing it up, let me know.”

And I sat down.

The throwing came when she threw it up on the counter for me to sign. My hands shook as I handed it back to her and quietly said, “The only thing you owe me is an apology.”

This is same one who walked away the week prior because I protested an overcharge. I know intellectually that her lack of professionalism and courtesy is her problem, not mine.

Yet there it is. I eat when I am treated badly, when I feel bad despite what my thoughts tell me, that she’s in the wrong, childish, and rude. And you need not feel bad about other’s nastiness.

Yet I do. And my go to relief is food. Except that it’s not. It makes me feel as bad, just in other ways. Self-hate ways. But so does being treated badly. A throw back from childhood of course, when atrocities to my body were supposed to be kept silent, and bore on my own tiny shoulders. Of course I’d grow to allow transgressions, though lessor ones, and feel wrong, bad and somehow to blame.

My appointment with the specialist was unfortunately later the same day, a day that for the first time enough snow had fallen that Samuel had to fire up the snow-blower. Even though Samuel drove, I fretted over snowy conditions, and that a first time patient was allotted only 15 minutes, and more worries over seeing a surgeon. You know what surgeons like to do. Lastly, I’ve seen so many medical people in the past few months, each with their own opposing opinions that one more is about tipping me over the edge.

I prepared the day ahead by typing out all the tests and procedures I’ve had lately. Three CAT scans in one year to rule out diverticulitis. Strike three, strike OUT! I should have said NO to that last one in the ER. No more. I don’t have DIVERTICULITIS.  

I liked him almost immediately, especially when he said surgery, if that’s even needed, isn’t even anything to consider at this point. He didn’t rush me. And he didn’t need the paperwork I had worked so diligently on because, miracle upon miracle, he had taken time prior to read my history. 

When my ‘stress tears’ fell he said, “I don’t know why you’re crying.”

“I’m scared! It’s scary to be bleeding and not know where,” I immediately answered, wiping my eyes.

He looked me in the eyes and discussed what was going on and how to treat it for now. He put me at ease. I have another medication to take 4 times a day which will help heal whatever is bleeding. OK, I’ll need a notebook for that.  

His ability to pinpoint where the bleed is came down to, “Anywhere from mouth to butt.”

How can I not like this guy? I like, no, need, directness, even if I don’t like what I hear.

He also said, probably based on his assessment of my stress, “You’ll either get better, or you won’t.” 

Now others may not like or appreciate such a statement, but I had to laugh out-loud and so did Samuel. It’s not easy to get a laugh out of me lately.

But yesterday took its toll. After luxuriating in several weeks of good sleep because my arm calmed down along with my fears, I woke. And the secretary’s rudeness invaded my thoughts. I gave up and came out to join the 3 am news team, took a pill that makes me groggy the next day…and I ate.

I haven’t been overeating since the hospital stays. I’ve been very careful. But I’m back on track. Because after a groggy morning of feeling crappy and eating too much for breakfast, I remembered my work. Take care of yourself, be loving. Being loving is asking, what can I do that best takes care of me? Eating right, taking the medications, doing my exercises, using a softer approach by remembering just how hard this past year has been and all I’ve had to cope with.

I began to feel better. Not because of what anyone else did or didn’t do, because an apology will not likely be forthcoming from the secretary, but because of how I talk to myself and treat myself.

Back to basics.

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Nosy Molly had to hop up and see what I was doing!

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21 thoughts on “EATING

  1. I laughed out loud when I read that the receipt fell back onto the desk for her to pick up again. Even if she refuses to apologise to you, she might think twice about being so rude to another person and it says so much more about her than you. Good for you to show so much courage and call her on her unacceptable behaviour and attitude. If she’s having a bad day/week/month/life or hates her job, she has no right to take it out on others. When I get triggered in these ways now, I stop and take 5 long slow deep breaths and then ask again if I really want the food I think I need to medicate with. Sometimes the answer is yes and sometimes it’s no but either way I’m consciously getting back to a relaxed state before making the choice. I’m glad you’ve come back from your appointment feeling a little better, I hope you get the issue sorted soon. ❤

    Liked by 3 people

  2. I hope that it required a lot of effort for her to pick it up. I hope she had to get up from her chair, maneuver around and hunt for it. Maybe she even broke out into a little sweat and had BO for the rest of the day. Wouldn’t that be nice?! Just sayin’ ;)!

    I love that you held your space. And I totally get that you spiraled after! But you’ve recovered so well and your doctor sounds lovely. You have compassion, insight and honesty about your eating and you’re redirecting without berating yourself. How cool is that!? I’m so honored to witness your self-compassion and your resolve to keep taking good care of yourself. I’m inspired!

    I also hate that you have this bleeding and there are no answers. Keep sending healing energy to that body of yours. I’m thinking beautiful floral bandaids like your flowers, taping themselves over the bleed. Take good care of each other — you and your body! I’m wishing you well. Much love!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I think I’m kind of where you are–sliding a bit, wanting to use old “habits” to cope with stresses. It’s not easy to change. But we both know so much more than we used to, so I bet a small slide won’t mean we are back to where we used to be. It’s just a reminder to keep paying attention to our needs.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. I think it’s great when we recognise why we do something or act in a certain way I think that shows hiw much we’ve come and are healing really getting to know ourselves . It’s fantastic you pulled her up on her rudeness and no peoples skills attitude. The flowers look stunning! And as always please give Molly a squeeze from me if she will allow it lol. I hope you do not need surgery. I hope the bleed stops! Sending you warm thoughts and safe warm love.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
      And yes, Molly loves people so she’d love to be petted!
      Honestly, I’m still wondering if it’s me who lacks the people skills. Yet I’m also so turned off and uncomfortable going there I’m trying to think of other options.

      Like

      1. My pleasure.
        I know what you mean when you wonder if the problem lies within. However people who work in the public eye should be able to handle things accordingly without judgement. I think we are heightened with extra sensitivity for obvious reasons. Some professionals have empathetic manners and sadly dome do not.
        By the way what “soft music” helps you if you don’t mind me asking? I love the sound of your tranquil inner peace times. These are much needed. ☺

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Thank you for saying that. I always look at uncomfortable situations and try to see how I could do better.
          I also have a way of assessing ‘bullshitters’ and I had her pegged day one and have kept a safe boundary from her. Not safe enough apparently. I hate that I have been sucked in but in order to complete my needed therapy in one place I will probably have to keep courteous, cool and end any interchange as quickly as possible.
          I love my time in the studio. I should say I play music softly as the radio station I listen to plays all types of music sometimes even rap or heavy metal, neither that I like but don’t mind in there. No commercials, and they broadcast live from high schools too to give students a chance to learn the business of being an announcer.
          Thank you. Your support is so helpful and reinforces what I know to be true.

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          1. I’m learning lots from you. Thank you. Each time we learn anyhow. I think as long as we are mindful of our own actions and behaviour then we can have a clear conscience.
            That’s a lovely idea broadcasting from school.
            I’m glad I help reinforce the truth for you too.

            Liked by 1 person

  5. I am so glad that you are able to see how the self-talk can make all the difference and that you soothed yourself back to feeling ok and recognised that it was all YOU and that you have been through so much. I am finding and only recently so that I have opened up a more positive dialogue with myself and that no matter what is said to me and how I can sit with myself and talk myself back to being ok, back to being centred. It’s hard work but I belive with continued and consistent practice we can reach that place of self-love where other people’s rudeness does not shake us. I look at it as being the creator of my own happiness and not allowing the moods and feelings of others to dictate my own mood. I choose how I want to feel not them. Of course I am saying all these things as aspirations as I know how very hard it is in actual practise but we are doing all the hard work. Wishing you gentle and caring self-talk always.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Molly is adorable. The flowers are beautiful. Your surgeon is my kind of doctor. Good for you for standing for you. And it’s progress knowing your eating for the wrong reason. It’s rough when comforting eating is punishment. Keep fighting for you.

    Liked by 1 person

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