Brave talk

My last entry was about embarrassment. I bravely insinuated that I would go to the grocery, etc., and charge on, so to speak.

I didn't.

I tried.

I didn't.

Yesterday evening I desperately wanted something sweet to eat. I intended to go to the grocery as I needed other things as well. I intended to do a regular shopping, portable oxygen tank and all. I couldn't do it. I went to the drive-thru donut store, then to a drug store where I bought some "staples," - paper towels, soap, more snack food. About $35 worth of stuff.

Today I am out of dog food and my dog is hungry. There was enough for a morning meal, but there is none for her dinner. I have to go out. I have to go to the great big gigantic grocery store. And I have to go with my oxygen bag.

It's heavy.

I have to go.

The cannula and long extended double hose-pipe-like tubing showing on my face, down my chest, to the bag, slung over my shoulder, pulling down the top of my shirt because....

it's heavy.

I have to go and now it is storming. It's 4:45 p.m. I had set a goal to leave at 5:00 p.m. I put on makeup this morning. The oxygen seemed like too much ugly. If I go, it will be because I am indeed very brave or because I really love my dog or both.

It's getting closer to 5:00 p.m. Maybe I will go at 6:00 p.m. Who goes to the grocery at 6:00 p.m. on a Sunday night? Who will there be to see me? Why do I care? I don't know anyone who shops there. Strangers staring. Pity? Judgement? I feel shamed. I smoked cigarettes and look at me now. Parents whispering to their children, "Don't smoke. Do you want to wind up like her?" My heart is pounding.

It's 4:50 p.m. Now my hands are shaking.

Brave talk. All talk. Where is the action?

Embarrassment

Yesterday I was fortunate enough to be invited to attend a book signing event with my daughter and granddaughter. It was for a children's book, but my granddaughter didn't seem very enthusiastic. In fact, she was angry with me at times and shy around the crowd of people. It took me a while to find out why.

My granddaughter has been losing her baby teeth in rapid succession. When I first saw her yesterday, she had lost two more since the last time I saw her and another one was loose. I said something to the effect of, "Wow! You're going to have to start eating mashed potatoes!" I was excited that she was showing such signs of growing up and imagined she'd be pleased. I wanted to see a big gaped-toothed grin! But I didn't.

Inside the bookstore, there was a book about the character we were going to see - Junie B. Jones. The book was about Junie B. losing her baby teeth. The picture on the cover showed a big grin with gaps similar to my granddaughter's. I picked up the book and wanted to buy it for her. She grabbed it out of my hand and put it back. "Look!" I said. "Junie B. has lost her teeth just like you have! Don't you want the book?" I think she hit me again. I said, "What's the matter, Sweetheart?" Her whispered reply? "I'm embarrassed."

How unthinking can a grandmother be? I told her I was sorry I had embarrassed her and I certainly didn't mean to. It never dawned on me that she would be embarrassed by her smile. But it's part of life. I was probably embarrassed when I lost my baby teeth. I know I was embarrassed when my adult teeth grew in because they were huge and protruded until I was old enough to wear braces. And that was another embarrassment. Prior to that, I had to wear glasses. Being called four-eyes was, yet again, embarrassing.

How many times I've been embarrassed in my life by something that seemed wrong about my looks or something I'd said or done, I don't know. How many times I may have tripped or actually fallen down. How many times I've said something completely inappropriate or laughed at a sad event. All my life, it seems. All of everyones', I suppose. But here is the newest I must face. I went to my pulmonary doctor's today to get some more information about my condition and what I should and shouldn't do regarding exercise. I wound up walking out of the office with a prescription for portable oxygen for things like grocery shopping.

Grocery shopping! She's got to be kidding! I have to go to the grocery store now with a cannula shoved up my nose while carrying a container of oxygen????? Well, yes. Yes, I do. And when I walk the dog and when I get the mail and when I go to book signings with my granddaughter. But if I feel embarrassed, I hope I will remember that little girl's plight of having so many of her baby teeth fall out at once. And I hope I can teach her something about embarrassment by not being embarrassed myself.

I don't have the portable canister yet. I had planned to grocery shop on my way back from the doctor's but didn't because I thought I needed to get back right away in case the oxygen supply company called. So far they haven't. The waiting is slightly uneasy. I'd just like to get it over with.

But I think once I go out with it, it will be OK. Or maybe it won't. Maybe people will stare. Maybe I will cry. But maybe I will walk stronger and longer. And I will live to see my granddaughter grow into a beautiful woman. Embarrassed about that? I don't think so.

Figuring myself out

I have been doing a lot lately to heal myself. I have bought CDs of healing music, a DVD of a Qigong Master, rereading A Course In Miracles. I do Dr. Weil's breathing exercises everyday. I walk every day - I am up to three minutes. Doesn't sound like much, but I keep reminding myself that "a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." Lots and lots of work. I realize it would have been prudent to do it sooner, to never have smoked, blah, blah, but I came to a bigger realization yesterday. It is a very simple thing yet when I "discovered" it, it made perfect sense. It has to do with energy. Mine, specifically. I have low energy. I put out low energy. I am low energy. So low as to attempt invisibility in many areas of my life, particularly in childhood. And yet I am not, and never have been, invisible. I am quite visible to myself at night when I have that cannula in my nose. Still, I believe my visibility has been pale. I believe I have lived, up until now, a pale life. Just barely there. Sometimes skirting the edges of the world with enough force to make an impact, but mostly, just there. Barely.

Recourse: change the energy. Intensify it. Walk with shoulders back. Speak not loudly, but with strength. Believe I am here because I am here.

It is all on the inside. It simply manifests on the outside. In shyness, in anxiety, in depression, in illness. I can change it. At this moment in time, I'm not exactly sure how I can change it, but I know I can. When I figure that part out, I will write about it. For now, I am concentrating on my energy. My inside energy. My life force. The part of my soul that is inhabiting this body - for I feel souls are huge and are involved in more than one activity at a time. This would not diminish the work it can do in this body, with my help. It simply is there, quietly watching. Perhaps waiting or wanting to help. I don't know. But I want to. I want to know as much as I possibly can while in this lifetime. I want to discover things about the nature of who I really am and what this human life is really all about. A Course In Miracles teaches some of that but, as it even says, it is only "A" course, not "The" course. So there must be many, many others of many different kinds. Which course, besides the one I've chosen to "take" on Miracles, am I enrolled in with this energy study? Something big, I am thinking. Something really big.

I don't know where to start. Back to the journey of a thousand miles. This is my first, single step.

A day turned around

I thought I was having a bad day today. I was tired. That used to be OK, but now it makes me nervous because I think it means a lack of oxygen. I walked to the mailbox anyway, but was still feeling sorry for myself until I read an email from on old friend. He congratulated me on the exercising I'm doing and that I'm raising my O2 level. And I am. I just forgot that today, I suppose. It's that instant gratification thing. I want to feel fabulous all the time. I don't know why - I never have and I doubt that anyone feels great all the time. I just wanted to enjoy this summer. I love to swim and had even thought I might make a trip to the beach. And who knows? I might. I do know, however, I will swim and swim and swim and if I get tired, so what!

Lost in another world

I have not blogged in a while. I joined an online support group for people with COPD and I am still learning to navigate the website and have lots of "letters" to answer. They are very nice people and very supportive. They are all ill with COPD in varying degrees. Some work - one is a concert pianist. Wonder how he manages that. He has a diary that I just haven't had the time to read. I've been busy trying to heal myself. That's the only thing about the group... They talk about how to live with the disease. I need to learn that, of course, but I am really working to heal myself and be free of it. At least I desire to have a few more years of not having to have oxygen all the time. At night is not so bad, but it can be a bit of a hassle if I have to get out of bed once I'm there. I had to several times last night as Asia, my dog, just wouldn't settle down. I managed though.

I had an excellent Qigong class on Friday. It was just Sarah and me. No one else showed up. I like it like that. Well, I would, wouldn't I?

Yesterday I ran around taking my oxygen level all day. I slept late and when I do that I don't feel well the next day. However, the night before I simply could not go to sleep. It was at least 3 o'clock, or maybe 4, before I could sleep. I had a terrible headache, but didn't want to get up and take aspirin. However, when I finally did I was able to sleep. I won't make that mistake again.

I haven't talked to anyone since leaving Qigong class on Friday. Not that unusual, and doesn't really bother me. But sometimes I wish someone would call to check on me. No one does and even though I do have a follower, I don't she has time to read this so I'm just talking to myself. Which is OK.

I had a good day today. Hot outside and was tempted to go to the pool, but feared the water would still be too cold. This week the water should begin to warm up and I may even give it a try tomorrow. That's what I've been looking forward to for so long! And I know the exercise will be good for me. And the sun!!! Lovely Sun!

Well, got to go. There are two horror movies I intend to watch tonight while eating chocolate ice cream. Sounds like fun to me. Is that sad??? Maybe...

Cloudy Sunday

That must be an oxymoron - cloudy sun-day. Still, this is Sunday and it's cloudy and rather dreary. Unfortunately, that matches my mood. I am feeling tired today and worried about my health. I'm not keeping to the "live in the now" philosophy I have attempted to adopt. I am looking to the future, not believing I can really heal myself. Worried that other things are wrong with me. Why am I doing that? Don't I have enough problems?

Well, writing that seemed to help. At this very moment in time, I don't have any problems at all. I am not being bothered by illness, finances, sadness or worry for another, loneliness. Sitting here, writing in my little blog, I'm perfectly safe, sound, whole, and well. Worrying doesn't solve problems. Action does.

Words on a page battling with other thoughts in my head, that aches slightly, by the way, due to the impending rain. I have had good days of late. Especially Friday when my niece accompanied me to Qigong class. Afterwards, we met my nephew, his lady, and their baby, for lunch. My niece came back to my house with me and we sat and talked for quite a while. I greatly enjoyed her company.

Yesterday, I worked on healing myself with music and sound, watched a good movie about the poet, Keats, and would classify it as a good day. Yet this morning I am worried about my health. The word "patience" has come to me. That is how I intend to spend today. With patience and faith.

Today, today, today...

Sorry to say, to myself, that it wasn't a great day as far as how I felt. I have been breathless most all day whenever I have done anything. Doesn't mean I was idle - I exercised, did my Qigong and breathing exercises, climbed stairs to get to my hairdressers, walked my dog, walked to the mailbox, went grocery shopping.

Well. After typing all that, I am wondering if that's why I haven't felt well. I did a lot today. While I was at my house in the morning I felt OK doing exercises, walking the dog. It was in the afternoon, starting with the trip to the mailbox when I started to feel out of breath. I took my little oximeter reading too many times. Once it was 88. Didn't like that. But once it was 96. Go figure.

I wish I had some kind of guide as to what I should and maybe shouldn't be doing. My doctor, when she put me on the oxygen, said, "Go swimming!" when I bemoaned the fact that I couldn't swim while hauling around an oxygen tank and that I loved going to the pool. I supposed I based my new routine on her saying that. I guess I figure if I am able to swim, then I am able to do less strenuous exercises. Still, I am so aware now of when I am out of breath. I used to always attribute it to stress - hyperventilation. Something I've done a billion times in my life. This feels the same so it's hard for me to know if I'm anxious or running low on oxygen. I do have my oximeter. But if I had had it when I was really having horrific panic attacks, I wonder if it would have read that I was low on oxygen. Doctors used to tell me not to be afraid of the panic attacks because the worst thing that would happen to me was I would faint. Then my breathing would return to normal - in that unconscious state. That was a fabulous thing to tell me. Subsequently, I developed a fear of fainting in public that I still have today.

But that stuff is about my panic disorder and this blog concerns my journey to heal my lungs. I believe the two are connected, but I won't write about it today. Today I will say that even though I feel I had a "bad" day, it really wasn't. I accomplished a lot, didn't faint or have a heart attack. Today I was better that I thought I was. I will take that to bed with me and concentrate on healing.