The day my sacrum seceded from the union

Today my body stopped working, though by the time I finish this post, it will be yesterday, a day I am mighty glad to put behind me. 

As I mentioned previously, my back flared up big. But previously, I had no idea how big. 

Today, I started my new usual rhythm: lay around for a few hours, get up and walk around for a few hours. And of course, I chose to take my walk out in our backyard. I walked out and leaned against a light pole to remove my socks and tuck them in my pocket. Then I stepped out of my shoes and slowly began padding around the yard. When I got to the farthest corner, I realized something was very, very wrong. The pain was increasing; and I had to do something to make it stop. I wished I had a walking stick, or had put my cell phone in my pocket, or could spot any neighbors. I dropped to my knees - a move that, for some reason, doesn't hurt me - and then moved to my side and I lied down. (Note: I have totally forgotten the difference between lie and lay, so sorry about that.)

I stayed there for a bit, tried to remain calm, and eventually made my way to my feet, lasting only a couple of steps before I had to make my way back down. This time, I noticed a large stick in my yard. My eyes lit up and I crawled toward it, reached and.... got it! I lay back down, resting in the clover, breathing, willing Caleb to come outside, willing myself not to panic that I was suddenly in a situation I hadn't ever expected to be in, or at least not for several decades. I slowly made it to the back door, with much pain, and realized I couldn't make it over the six inch stair (or step back into my shoes). I opened the door and called for Caleb, who got me to the couch and agreed to take me to the ER. Then the panic and tears came from being stuck, from the pain, from the whole situation. 

Almost two hours after arriving at our local hospital, I was still writhing around uncomfortable as heck, sitting in the wheelchair. Caleb got me a blanket and I laid down on the floor. Bliss.... sort of. 

Then came seven more hours once we got into a room - doctors, nurses, MRIs, blood work, Caleb having to help me any time I wanted to move because I was in so much pain. After some IV pain meds, we finally were able to pin down that the pain was triangular - radiating from the two dimples on my back across the spine, and down the sacrum. It was then that I knew that my sacrum was trying to abdicate, leave it's job. 

We're so glad to be back at home, with various prescriptions for muscle relaxants, steroids, prescription strength naproxen. Tomorrow (today?) the adventure continues, with early morning calls to be made to two of my doctors, looking for answers, looking for the independence to dress myself again. 

hobbies

The other day, I was filling out a questionairre or a form for something or other and I got to the question that asks "What are your hobbies?" 

First of all, I would like to know how you all answer this question. Because though spending time catching up with people on Facebook is something that I do a lot of during my free time (especially because it's a back-safe activity), it's not something I like to put down as a hobby. Feel free to share these hobbies in a comment. (Tip: you can use "anonymous" and then just put your name in the comment box if you don't want to sign in.)

But for once, I knew that I had hobbies! I had two things I'd been doing lately that had been interesting, engaging, something totally other than what I do normally. Are you ready to hear them? This is what I've been doing for fun:

Building fires and walking around my yard looking at stuff. 

Now. Perhaps these don't sound particularly engaging. We live in an urban lot that's not particularly large. The fires are built in our fireplace. But at someone who never learned how to build a fire until very recently, I find it totally fascinating, calming, and functional. And SO different from my normal work tasks that are long-term and digital. 

We haven't lived here very long, not even a full year - and so walking around my yard during spring time is like opening a surprise box every single day. Daffodils that we planted... they survived! Daffodils that we didn't plant! Lilies! Tulips that we planted... the squirrels didn't eat them! Lilac bush! Mysterious beautiful white flowering vine! Rose bushes! Violets! Purple flowering ground cover! (Vinca?) Copious amounts of clover! Moss! Redbud tree! Forsythia! Dandelions! Onions that we planted last fall survived winter! Mysterious green bush! Mulberry tree! 

It's a good life people. Don't let anyone tell you that puttering around your yard doesn't count as a hobby. 

You can't rush your healing*

The days after I herniated the disc in my back were pretty awful... Actually the day it happened was ok... but the next day, I hobbled down the hall of the hotel as fast as I could, making it to my room just in time to break my puke-free since childhood record. And then I spent the night hobbling to the toilet to throw up (My doctor would later call it "Montezuma's revenge", but I just call it bad water), and then laying back in my bed on my side, the only comfortable position available.

The next day, Saturday, I spent in my hotel room, crying to my parents over Skype, hobbling around my room, eating tiny bites of green protein bar every couple of hours, grateful to have a large supply of clean water available.

This was a while ago, but I've been remembering a lot of it lately. On Wednesday this week, I met with my neurosurgeon to review my latest MRI. She was amazed by how much improvement I showed in the scan:"Your back was so bad that ten out of ten neurosurgeons would have operated on you... but you said no, which isn't necessarily the wrong response. Studies show that two years post injury, patients with or without surgery are in the same place."

So we agreed on physical therapy to help rebuild my muscles after sitting and resting for so long, and I started the somewhat complicated process of scheduling an appointment. Then I went out and worked in my yard, trimming vines, taking photos, cleaning my house. But pain memory and muscle loss is real. After so much activity, I spent all of Friday evening and today laying in bed because sitting is too painful. My back is still trying to teach me something. I haven't been in this much pain since I hurt my back, and I could not be more grateful to be learning it here, in my house, on my couch, with a dear friend stopping by to bring me straws to sip water, and Caleb and my brother around to make jokes. Every few hours, I get up and walk around slowly in my yard, rooting my feet to this place, helping my nerves to understand that I am okay, that we're in this together, that they aren't being pressed by misplaced disc any more.

I walk out and look at my daffodils from time to time.

I have books and snacks, and a yoga bolster (think very firm, long pillow) to put between my legs. I have warm clover outside in my yard that feels so good on my toes. I have medicine, I have supplements, I have good digestion. (If you can avoid violent digestive illness and severe back injury at the same time, I recommend it.) And so, even though I wanted to do so many other things today, I rest and I wait and I listen.

*Title of post based on this song:

Burial

I grew up going to a Lutheran church and a Lutheran school (one of each branch of "Lutheranism"). Our service on Sunday involved singing out and reading out of green hymnals. Kids always attended the services and Sunday school was a separate time, sandwiched between the two morning services. We followed the liturgy - a modified version of the texts and prayers spoken or sung in church services for hundreds if not thousands of years. 

In high school and college, I fell out of love with liturgy, feeling that it was just ritual and therefore not meaningful, opting instead to attend a very conservative church with electric guitars that did not observe church year seasons like Advent, Lent, Epiphany, Pentecost. 

Later in college, I went through a hard semester. And then an even harder one. And during that time, I found my way home to liturgy, this time in an Episcopalian church. While living in Spain, I moonlighted as a Catholic, attending Mass most weeks (consequently, I know a lot of the Mass liturgy in Spanish, but not in English). My church now is not particularly liturgical, though it does observe the seasons of the church year. 

I write about this to introduce a liturgical tradition that I love. Most people are familiar with Lent, the 40 days + Sundays leading up to Easter. Many people associate this as a time of fasting. But, did you know that there is also a word that drops from the church liturgy during this season? 

During Lent, we bury the Alleluia's and the Hallelujah's. Without these praise words, the liturgy takes a more solemn turn during a more solemn season. (I actually feel a little heretical just typing it during Lent!)

It's for this reason that on Easter and for the seven weeks after that it's celebrated, the liturgy is JAM PACKED with Allelulia's:

Note the additional Alleluias. Yes, I do own my own Book of Common Prayer and my own hymnal. Don't worry about it.

My church now does not observe this particular tradition, which makes me sad (more about that in a future post) and also makes me feel a little obstinate when I refuse to sing the songs that have it during Lent. So, on Palm Sunday - better late than never - I decided to literally bury the "Hallelujah": 

And because I believe that dirt is a spiritual experience and because I believe that gardening is a theologically relevant thing to do around Easter, I added a surprising (Pintrest-y) twist: I used the leftover seed paper from our wedding invitations to make the letters. They may not sprout, since they are a bit older... but if they do, I will be sure to let you all know. 

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Additional Holy Week reflections from past years:

Stay here and keep watch

Taizé, part III reflections

Stability

From Brian Zahnd: Jesus died for us... Not for God

to my love

With Caleb's permission, today I'd like to share with you a letter I wrote in 2011 to him while he was full-time taking care of his grandpa, who was on hospice. And for fun, I thought I'd share this photo of Caleb and I, from 2011:

to my love:

Ever since that one time we were eating gelato and ran into my coworker Susan and she asked what you did and you said "not a whole lot right now" I started thinking about what you are doing. And why it is valuable.
That day that we snuggled in the hammock and read The Singer stands out in my mind. I remember coming in and you and your grandpa were eating lunch. (At 3:30, of course.) I felt like I do sometimes when I've had a busy day - I came breezing in carrying the whole weight of my day. During most of the day, I had been an individual. I spent time in my windowless, basement office, taught, chatted with my coworker about various students (she didn't have good things to say). I drove my own car alone halfway across the city and wound up walking through your front door and petting Lola, all of this fresh on my mind.
As I sat down with you both at the kitchen table, I felt the pace of the world slow down in a way I don't usually experience. I realized that all of my rushing was simply what the day had required of me, not who I am. I felt like I had a glimpse into your world. You sit with an old man and slowly eat lunch at 3:30 while most of the world is rushing around outside the four walls of your house. While some people are career planning and stressing and making phone calls and taking life at a frenetic pace, you are watching the History Channel with your grandpa. The little things you do every single day like getting breakfast and making sure he is not too cold or has the remote and helping him use the bathroom or slowly move from his wheelchair to the table may seem like little things; but I think they are shaping you in more ways than you realize. I think they are shaping me in more ways than I realize, simply from watching you interact with him.
That day we went four-leaf clover hunting and your grandpa came home from the nursing home, I remember watching you go to him and cut off his hospital bracelet. I had never seen you be that caring and gentle before. It was beautiful.
There are oh-so-many things I love about you, Caleb, but one of them is definitely that you are taking care of your grandpa. I'm sure it doesn't always feel beautiful or like you are being shaped. Even if it feels boring or like nothing, I think that's how growth is. And I want you to know that I think you are doing one of the most valuable, selfless jobs you could be doing. So thanks.

Resolutions all year long

[sometimes I find posts that I meant to post before. This one's from January 2015, but I updated it!]
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Someone asked me recently if I had any New Year's intentions. I said no, because I tend to set intentions whenever I feel the need. That being said, I am working on several things this year that are continuing from last year. I thought it would be fun to share them with you all.

(Besides, it was between this and telling you about how Caleb and I have been sick for days and binge-watching Gilmore Girls, and I thought this was more compelling.)

Resolution: To complete my yoga teacher training
Started: April, 2014
Status: I hope to finish this by May of this year. I'm pretty close. I don't really know "what I want to do with it", but I think that will come when the moment is right.
2016 Status: Well, see what I didn't know when I wrote this is that I had a major back problem. I did do some of my training in May, but I'm actually finishing it this week! (Assuming that I am not still doing jury duty.)

Resolution: Learn French
Started: November 2014
Status: I started taking a French class in December. It's kind of hard to find time to do homework, even though I love it. I am in a little over my head, because I'm in the intermediate level, but it's good.
2016 Status: I would rate my French level as still at the same level as about a year ago. But I am still trying to use it, and am at a survivable level. 

Resolution: Love my job
Started: Eeehhh hard to say when it started. But Caleb and I had a really good conversation about it in July 2014 which prompted some action.
Status: Complete! I am not taking this for granted. I will be traveling a lot this year, more than ever in my life, and I am pumped. Not just for the travel, but for the reason behind the travel and the way it will inform my daily tasks (which I also enjoy) when I am not traveling. And let's be honest, not traveling is pretty great too. Caleb is pretty fun.
2016 Status: Nothing new on this front!

Resolution: Get my back healthy!
Started: basically as soon as I knew my back was hurt, which was March 2015
Status: Got a new MRI and am seeing the doctor in two weeks! 

Resolution: Swim more
Started: November 2015
Status: Need to get back on this. I've traveled a lot this year and haven't been able to do it due to my back being inflamed and then being sick. Starting this weekend, I am finally okay to do it! I just need to re-work it into my schedule. 

Photo post: Goliath

Yesterday I posted about my first dog. Today I want to post about my second dog, my wittle bebe Goliath. Goliath died in July 2014. It was very unexpected and very sad. But if any dog lived his years to the max, it was Goliath "Armpit". He would eat his food and some of the other two dogs'. He would viciously fight off anyone he perceived as an attacker... and yet he could also be the sweetest, rag-doll-iest cutest dog ever. There's really no way I could do him justice with words alone, so here are some photos of him. 

So snuggly!

Seriously, this dog loved to cuddle - on his own terms

Look at his fuzzy little head!

On his last Christmas, Caleb lulled him into a state of relaxation so transcendent that not even having candy placed on top of him could wake him. You guys. Caleb is so good with dogs. 

He was very fierce - the only one of three dogs to ever kill something (bugs and maaaaybe a mouse?) Also the only dog to bite a visitor on the ankle.

He pretty much always had his tongue sticking out. We're sure it was just too long for his mouth. He is mostly hair in this photo.

Hard to capture, but he loved to be held. Hence his middle name "armpit" (because he rode around tucked under people's arms... and sometimes smelled accordingly!)

Just look at his face!

Oh Goliath. You really did have nine lives. Thank you for surviving that time you ate an entire dark chocolate bar right before my wedding. You were the snuggliest, weirdest, feistiest dog ever. We miss you pretty much always because we weren't ready for you to go, but I have to tell you, Lola is sure living it up now that you aren't there to boss her around... May you be always finding snacks and adventures in heaven.