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When was the last time I felt challenged? I wake up, sip my coffee, trudge through my morning routine. Mouthful of medicine for my chronic illness. I write, I pray, I listen (to a book, podcast, or music). I chew my breakfast while I drive to my same place of employment for 14 years. I continue to listen (to the book, podcast, or music) OR I stare off into space while I drive. I get out of my car, unlock my office door, log into my work computers, and it begins. I get back in my car, return a million missed texts, phone calls, and emails as safely as I can using Apple Car Play / Siri Safe Drive. I pull into the garage and count down the hours until bedtime. I chew my supper while I try to remember my name. I chat with my family and aging parents about mostly-trivial but sometimes-important details. Another mouthful of medicine for my chronic illness. I look at my beautiful children in awe, and I wonder what kind of men they will be. I sit with my husband for an hour (if we are lucky) before he leaves for his night shift job. Bedtime routine for kiddos, occasionally a TV show that makes me think, and then I'm staring at my palm-sized demon looking for answers it does not contain. Is this it? Is this the peak or the valley? The joy or the pain? The calm or the storm? I don't know anymore. It all feels the same. Yes, yes a global pandemic has stripped me of some of my best days. It has calcified my heart and further thickened my skin. My eyes grow both weak and clouded. My soul is but an echo of its youthful GLOW. My mind, once invigorated and eager... my mind sits solemnly in the corner silently daring someone or something to call upon it. Goodnight, my once-lively darling. I have tucked you in every night for almost 2 years now. Your light is weak now, sweet darling. I see a glimmer. A flicker of promise. Can life wake you and shake you before your final flame burns? That is the challenge. No one else will save us or light our fire. We must find the spark, the ignition, the catalyst. Find a mirror, sweet darling - and DIG. DIG DEEP my darling. She is in there. Let us LIGHT HER ON FIRE again. That is the challenge. I wrote this for any person anywhere who feels like they are sleep-walking through life. You are not alone. We are all struggling. I stand with you. Let us find our fire again. Please help support my fellow hope*writers by visiting their work: Writing Consistently is a Challenge by Regina Marcazzo-Skarka https://reginamarcazzoskarka.wordpress.com/2022/02/15/writing-consistently-is-a-challenge/ The Motherhood Penalty Challenge by Ashley Olivine https://www.ashleyolivine.com/the-motherhood-penalty-challenge/ Insomnia With Anxiety and How to Overcome the Challenge by Epigen Wellness Group https://www.epigenwellness.com/insomnia-with-anxiety-how-to-overcome-challenge/ Challenging Times and 3 Ways to Endure the Struggle by Lindsey Gibson https://lindseygibson.com/2021/02/21/challenging-times-3-ways-to-endure-the-struggle/ Jar Full of Manna 31 Day Discipleship Challenge by Kelly Heath https://jarfullofmanna.blog/2021/03/01/31-day-discipleship-challenge-how-to-follow-jesus/
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When I sat down to do my YEARLY REVIEW at the end of 2021, I was literally drained. I was exhausted: mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I could barely even form a sentence in my head. As I started PLANNING MY YEAR AHEAD as I usually do each holiday season, I started to see just how many things were already on my calendar. I am not sure if I felt disbelief, disgust, or disenchantment. "That will be cancelled. That won't happen. I doubt we actually do that." After two years of cancelled, postponed, and rescheduled plans, I almost reached for a pencil instead of a pen. I am eternally optimistic, but I am TIRED. You know those days where you sit down in the evening and you feel like you've been to DisneyWorld with 2 toddlers and 2 strollers and a newborn? Those days where you are driving home from a busy day in family practice and you aren't even exactly sure what your own name is (much less a disease or dosage of medication)? I feel like we've all had TWO YEARS of those days. So I decided to just boycott goals altogether for 2022. I wasn't going to make goal(s) for Health, Finance, Education, Personal Growth, Career, Family, Marriage, Spirituality, Home, etc like I usually do every year. The thought of doing that after I wrote my GOAL SETTING post was just as insurmountable as climbing Mount Everest (for this girl who already battles a chronic lung disease). Choosing a word for the year? Meh. And usually I am ALL OVER THAT!. But the only words that have come to mind lately (that don't include mild profanity) are flexibility, change, resiliency, and stamina. And I realize all of those words are entrenched in what I have LEARNED FROM THIS PANDEMIC as a frontline family NP. So I haven't chosen a word just yet. And I'm not sure that I will choose one for 2022.
And what I'm finding is that wearing ACTUAL CLOTHES (no scrubs, no standard mom "leggings and a tee" uniform) makes me feel better. It makes me feel better about myself, my life, my marriage, my work, and my day. I never thought I would be typing this, but it's TRUE. I choose healthier foods and move more when my pants have a zipper and a button. 👖 I try to have healthier emotional reactions when I don't look like I just rolled out of bed. 🧘♀️ I am reminded of my passion for medicine when I am dressed the professional part. 👩⚕️ I am even nicer to my husband when I like my reflection in the mirror. 👩❤️👨 I feel better about spending all the money I have spent on clothes now that I am actually wearing them. 😜 So there you have it. I set one goal for 2022. It is simple and it used to be automatic. What happened to the girl who loved shoes and purses and dressing up? Where did she go? Who and what took her from me? I feel her trying to emerge again. She is ready for this new year. She has no idea what's going to happen and no control over any of it. But she is showing up. And she looks and feels AMAZING. 👗 *** most of the time
*** except on Mondays *** or on days when her kids are off the chain *** but she is trying ☀️
Before deciding if you love me or hate me, let's look at each of these in a little more detail. If you are reading this and you don't work in healthcare, I encourage you to close your eyes. Imagine driving to work where patients are very sick and you are responsible for their health. Imagine being extremely exhausted - mentally, physically, and emotionally. Imagine having the same conversations day in and day out. Imagine wearing a mask and face shield all day every day AND if you work in certain healthcare settings, full plastic gowns (sweaty and HOT) with even more restrictive masks (n95). Think about having heart-wrenching conversations about death and dying with families and patients that you have come to love over many years. Consider praying on your drive in and your drive home because you've worked in healthcare since you were 19 years old, but you've never seen anything as dark and dangerous, cold and pointless, savage and destructive as THIS. Imagine that you, like everyone else, have also been unable to see loved ones, travel, send your kids to school without a mask, and that you- like everyone else- have your own political and religious beliefs but you cannot mention those since ALL eyes and ears are on you. Now imagine doing that every single day for 20 months in a row.
I usually wrap up my posts with some heart-swelling, tear-jerking, or funny concluding thoughts. I try to connect us as humans, mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, neighbors, and friends. I find a way to touch you, soften you, move you even if it’s only for a moment. I don’t know how to do that with this post. I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m frustrated. I’m still hopeful. I still believe. I guess I will end by asking all of us to consider the division we have all felt over the past 2 years. Consider the lost lives and energy we have all spent to prove we are right. And hug your family. Hug your loved ones. And look your “enemy” in the eye before you judge their choices. We really are all the same. Imperfect. Scared. And trying to stay alive. 🌎 |