Wednesday was a day of self care for me. A side effect of care giving, is that the care giver tends to neglect their own body and mind while caring for the other person. I am beginning to experience the ramifications of that, and working on righting my ship once again. The first thing on my agenda was to finally cash in the gift certificate for an hour and a half massage my son and his fiance gave me for Christmas. For reasons which escape me now, I seem to have been actively avoiding this appointment. Never having had a massage before (I know!), the thought of a stranger slathering oil all over me to be honest I found a bit off putting. As it turns out, and it often does, the reality turned out to be nothing like I perceived the experience to be. This adds yet another positive check mark to my list of to-do’s in this my Why Not? year. I’m going to make a tee shirt bearing those two words. Seriously. As I say them out loud and follow where they lead, they are taking me places I might not have otherwise thought to go.
Before my appointment, I opened my closet and pondered what one wears to get slathered in oil. After some deliberation, I chose a cozy sweat pants ensemble with matching hoodie. I tucked a hat in my purse both because temperature outside was in the low thirties, and I had been told by veteran massage enthusiasts the therapist may rub my head as well. Huh. Maybe she can move some thoughts around up there. Lately they’ve been a little mumble jumble. I’m willing to keep an open mind, so to speak. Stepping outside was like stepping into a meat locker. When I went to open the car door, it was frozen shut. Fine. Back into the house, I retrieved my spare car key. Hosing the door down, I pried it open and turned the car on cranking up the heater. Fifteen minutes later I was ready to rock and roll.
The wellness center was tucked in the back of a small strip mall behind a church. There was one car parked out front, which I pulled in next to. Inside the foyer there was a wall with a waterfall cascading down it. Lovely, relaxing music seeped out through the wall speakers, and a lady speaking in low soothing tones greeted me at the front desk. All it needed was Buddha himself squatted cross legged in the foyer to complete the picture. I was ushered into a dimly lit room with candles flickering and calming sounds in the background such as gurgling brooks and chirping birds. I was asked to disrobe as much as I was comfortable and climb into under the pre-warmed covers. “Why not”, I thought, as I prepared myself for my new experience? The hour and a half disappeared in a cloud of heavenly relaxation and peaceful moments of pure bliss. Ahhhhhh. When my time was up, I oozed off the table, slithered into my clothes, pulled on my hat and stepped back out into the world refreshed and renewed. Lovely. A friend suggested I do this monthly. That’s not happening. Pampering oneself does not come without a price. This time was a gift. When I asked on my way out how much it would cost for a repeat visit, I waved goodbye knowing most probably I wouldn’t be back for a long, long while.
Later in the day, I had an appointment to have a heart monitor put on. I have to wear this for a month, which is annoying, but they want to see what is going on with my irregular heartbeat. This is a condition I’ve had since I was a kid and periodically it creates some underlying problems. I’ve had the monitors before, but usually they were large contraptions with lots of wires. The new ones are about the size of a Tic Tac box with no external attachments. The unit was adhered to my upper chest with tape and connected wirelessly to a cell phone which must remain within 30 feet of the monitor at all times. Both units need to be charged at regular intervals. Good Lord. I was tired of this whole program already and it had only been on an hour. The “kit” the nurse gave me contained extra backing tape (to be changed weekly), charging units for both devices, and an instruction book. The same nurse who showed me how to use it, was delightful. However, I’m sure she has explained this many times before, and she blew threw the application process as if I already had some idea of what I was doing. Not. I told her I didn’t think I’d understood everything, or actually anything, she had said but she assured me I’d find plenty of additional information in the “kit” should I need it. Uh-huh. Leaving the office I headed home after a busy day. Walking in the front door, the device “stuck” to my chest released itself with a loud “schmuck” and fell loudly to the floor. The cat, sensing something new and interesting was on the scene, shot out from under the kitchen table and batted the intruder around a bit before I could rescue it from a bad fate. Since the monitor was now not attached, the cell phone began to issue an alarm telling me it was no longer receiving data. Thanks for the update.
Following the instructions on the phone screen, I tried to reattach it with no luck. The phone then sent me a message saying I needed to replace the tape backing before it could begin monitoring again. Sigh. Opening the much touted kit, I located one of the four tape backings provided for the month. Struggling to remember how to remove the current one, I finally managed to get it off and discarded it. Next, I peeled back the plastic cover and pulled out the replacement. Opening the instruction book, I found myself thankful they weren’t guiding me through dismantling a bomb, as the pictures weren’t the least clear on how to proceed, and most likely I would already be distributed in little pieces on the floor. Okay, “not rocket science”, I said out loud, but yet…… Three tape backings later, and not one backing yet attached to the device, I gave up and aborted the mission. I had tape stuck to my sleeve, on my sink, and everywhere else but where it was supposed to go. “Mama”.
Yesterday, I called the cardiologist and reported I was apparently too simple minded to get the device back on and could someone please show me once again. Duh and double duh. Really, how embarrassing. Back in I went, and got a different nurse this time. I explained I have grief brain, COVID brain, and well, my brain, and she would need to explain and not to skimp on the visual effects. It was so easy once she showed me. Ah well. So, I am live and streaming as we speak.
Here we are at the end of another week and nearly the end to another month. This year the world seems to be flying by at warp speed and with everything going on overseas I find myself wanting to say “Beam me up, Scottie, there’s no intelligent life down here”. Wow. War is such miserable business and never, in my humble estimation, worth the cost of engaging in it.
Happy weekend to you!!
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