Palliative Care

I found this on the internet: "Palliative care is an approach that improves the quality of life of patients and their families facing the problem associated with life-thretening illness, theough the prevention and relief of suffering by means of early identiviation and impeccable assessment and treatment of pain and other problems, physical, psychosocial and spiritual. Palliative care:
-provides relief from pain and other distressing symptoms
-affirms life and regards dying as a normal process
-intends neither to hasten or potpone death
-integrates the psychological and spiritual aspects of patient care
-offers a support system to help patients live as actively as possible until death...

ah shoot...it goes on forever. But what if it isn't death, like final death? What if it's death of one's illusions or a season in life transitioning to another?

This past weekend I checked myself into a motel for palliative care after my eye treatment. Since I get the injection into the eyeball, I'm choosing to be obsessive about rest, hygiene and stress for forty eight hours after the shot. It was a two star and they put me in the mobility impaired room.

Lots of sleep, lots of protein, lots of chocolate, cable TV of the bubble gum variety, no reading, limited phone screen watching. I went out once for a meal and took advantage of both complimentary breakfast mornings.

It improved the quality of my life, affirmed life, nurtured me physically, psychosocially, and spiritually. I effected relief from the pain and consequences of the injection and its site, it was a time of limbo, it integrated various aspects of my life. I lived as actively as I could while trying to heal and restore myself.

I thought a lot about the difference between having a home right now and parcing out the pieces of my life so no one could take away my ability to make progress with my writing.

It left me more needy financially than I wanted but I'll deal with that this week. In ten more days, the financial effects of having downsized will begin to kick in. Moving costs will be done with.

I thought a lot about my insitance on going it alone and at the same time wishing someone, anyone had stepped in on my behalf big time and stopped what was going on. I wished someone had held my husband accountable to his duties and responsibitlities and any number of people who had gotten caught doing something wrong.

BUT eventually I landed on pondering how I've grown, and clarified my life and how my faith has been so strengthened. I thought about the example I set for my daughter Caity and for myself.

The injection site is still red but it doesn't hurt as much and the eye isn't itchy or scratchy. I left, loaded everything back into the car myself and got to St Mark's in time for eucharist. I thought I was going to take the writing class, but the emails from the instructor were too intense. I responded that I needed something more gentle in my life right now.

The people I met in the lobby eating breakfast and working their shifts stayed with me. Some were clearly enjoying their lives, some were clearly stuck.

I am firmly convinced I am not stuck, I am transitioning. Back here at the office, I just wrote to Caity I feel empowered and creative. The world has not passed me by yet and I have a real concrete list to work on and accomplishing those items will move me forward.

I miss my kitties and certainly sleeping in my car is not my first choice, but I am empowered by my own actions of doing what needs to be done to move forward. I am, I said to a friend who wrote about my 'unusual journey' running an end game around evil.

So onward. Someday I will be moving into a house and looking back at this foundational time and feeling relief it is over, was worth it and that I was strong enough , by God's Grace, to do it.

This week I housesit for a couple of days. I think the new rhythm has begun. It's gonna be okay. I'm gonna be okay. I AM okay. That still comes as somewhat of a shock to me :)