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Post-surgery Recovery Meditation—Part 2

When you’re lying around, getting waited on, with nothing hanging over your head besides recuperating, you have a lot of time to think. About yourself, your life, and your priorities. What’s holding you back from achieving them. And what “priorities” and life habits you should erase from the list or alter. So you live a more balanced life and enjoy life more.

Right now I’m working out how I can keep that relative stress-free thing going after I’ve made a full recovery, which should be the middle of August. I’m hoping I’m on schedule!

Of course, I can’t always have it my way with the stress-free living. I’m a daughter, wife, mother, friend and self-employed writer, fitness pro, chaplain and speaker. Stress and unexpected responsibilities and schedule changes can overtake you like a tsunami in any area of life, and often it happens in more than one area at the same time. (During this time of recovery, I also had my son’s echocardiogram for a heart concern burdening my heart, too, so I did have plenty to worry about, IF I’d chosen to “worry.” Thankfully, the results came back normal.)

My responsibility—

While there’s much I can’t control, there is a lot I can control, a lot I can choose to set aside or say “no” to, and a lot I can take a pass on. Like completely ignore. I don’t always have to be everything to everybody. And I don’t have to feel a responsibility to respond to every inquiry or notice I receive.

Making a deeper examination of that was part of my recovery meditation process.

During my initial recovery stages, I read voraciously, watched movies, and colored. I even studied my on-line business-to-business email-writing course, and sat in on several webinars when I felt strong (and interested enough) to pay attention. One I exited fairly early after I decided it wasn’t worth my time or effort. Time I would never get back in my life. At my age, I need to start getting picky. Actually, at any age you should be.

The deadly, depressing emails—

One thing I started thinking seriously about (and realized I’d become somewhat of a slave to) is all of those emails I have lined up in my inbox. You probably have some of them yourself. The ones with the little red flags or yellow stars highlighting them as emails you wanted to go back and read because when they first arrived in your inbox they grabbed your attention, you just knew they were worth reading, when you have time. You were sure you’d have time to get to them later.

Know what I’m talking about? I was sure those emails would give me some little information nugget to improve my life, improve my business, make me a better or more well-rounded person. Make me happier, or more in-the-know.

Then I noticed how many flagged emails I had in just one email account alone. It’s embarrassing to admit. But here it goes. (Drum roll!)

Twelve hundred seventy-eight flagged emails. Yup. 1278. One thousand, two hundred seventy-eight emails I planned to open to read. That I planned to spend my precious time reading.Time I would never again get back.

And you know what? It’s not gonna happen. Ever. Why? Because I really don’t want to read those emails. If I did, I would have found the time to do it when they first came through.

And I don’t want to take precious time to read them, either. Not all of them, anyway. Not most of them, actually. So I made a decision and developed a plan for those emails and future inbox arrivals. Some of these ideas might work for you too.

The plan—

Go through your list and decide which emails are must-saves, like the airlines tickets, hotel reservations, etc. Move what you can to an email folder, set up for each topic. Learn how to file your emails.
If the email is older than a month, then it gets tossed. Chances are the same email subject will arrive in my inbox again, at which time I can decide if it’s really timely and important for me, or not. (In which case it needs to be immediately deleted.)
For those emails that come from a regular blog I subscribe to that I really find helpful and interesting, I can always just automatically delete the email and go to the sender’s web or blog page to scroll through the recent topics or blog posts I should read.
I can set aside a portion or time block of my day (be intentional on just how much time you’ll set aside) to devote to email and blog post reading. For me, sometimes it’s helpful to read a couple of blog posts or articles on writing early in the morning before I sit down to write. That tends to get me encouraged and motivated. And I always try to start my day with some kind of Bible study or inspirational, faith-based reading.
For those sites that offer a “Week in Review” email, wait until that comes through and then be selective on what you read.
It sounds harsh, but don’t assume that everyone who sends you an email needs a response. It’s time to kill the guilties on this one!
Choose a time of the day (maybe after all of your must-do work is done) to respond to emails from friends. (The same holds true for text messages.) Of course, if they’re emailing you about an urgent need that you can and want to help with, or a prayer request, then it’s usually okay to respond immediately. As long as you don’t allow the conversation to go on and on and on. (Unless you have time, of course.) Family and friends need attention and nurturing, but some are needier than others, and you sometimes do need to be selective on when and how you respond. Always be intentional, thoughtful and purposeful about it.
I’m setting a time to turn the phone off (or set it aside) and shut the computer down every night at least an hour before I go to bed. (This goes along with knowing when to read emails and not let them consume your day.) That way I’m not chained to those emails and reading them. I’ll be able to prepare myself better mentally for bed, relax, unwind and set myself up for a better night’s sleep.

And you know what I figured out after starting to apply this plan? I learned that I can read about three educational emails a day before my brain starts swimming, and I start forgetting the important points of what I read. So I know I need to be choosy. And really learn and remember the important points of what I’m reading. I think that if I can remember, and apply, 2 – 3 good points to my life and work, I’m doing well! (And that may be 2 -3 points a week, not daily!)

Why delete the unread, flagged emails—

While I could just leave the flagged emails sitting in my inbox, and not spend time deleting them, I won’t. Why? Because just seeing those little red flags and gold stars makes me feel guilty. It screams “Obligation!! Important!!” “Must do!” to me. And that triggers stress and irritation. And I want to reduce my stress and irritation as much as possible.

Even though I might have signed up to receive those emails, I don’t need to read all of them. And I don’t want to be reminded of what I didn’t do and what I might (gasp!) have missed. I don’t want to become a slave to my inbox. I’m determined to slay the FOMO that lurks in my brain. That’s something I need to keep meditating on until the FOMO has fizzled away.

It all might be a psychological game right now, but the brain plays games with us. And I need to retrain mine.

How about you?

Question:

How many “I’ll-have-to-go-back-and-read-those-emails” do you have in your inbox? And when are you going to—with a happy and content heart—send them on their way?

How much is your time worth to you? (In the business world, every second or dollar is spent is weighed against a ROI—return on investment. It’s worth weighing in every area of life too.)

As King Solomon wrote in the “Book of Ecclesiastes”:

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:”

NEXT WEEK: Turning FOMO into JOMO!

Until then,

Be ruthless! Like junk mail, learn how to— and be— aggressive about dumping emails!

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

Photo copyright pcworld.com

Hammock Napping for Recovery

In order to pace myself in my recovery from surgery, Free-for-All-Fridays will again be on hiatus this week!

(Although I won’t be indulging in hammock napping like this lucky person. Ours has worn out. All that’s left is the stand. But what a great way to spend a summer day!)

Make it a memorable weekend, whatever you’re doing!

Blessings,

Andrea

Post-surgery Recovery Exercise

I recoiled at the doctor’s post-surgery prescription: no strenuous activity for a couple of weeks.

Just how was I, with the hard-charging brain of a competitive athlete, supposed to follow that? But I knew I had to in order to give myself—and my gums and mouth—the best chance at healing. (You wouldn’t think that area of your body would care too much about how fast your blood was flowing, but it does.)

And I was concerned about how all of this down time would affect our training to walk a pilgrimage at the end of this year. At my age the exponential exercise curve takes a pretty steep, speedy drop after even one or two days without exercise.

So I did a lot of lying around and sleeping the first couple of days, which wasn’t too difficult because of the pain meds I was on. They make you sleepy, and that’s a good thing for healing. And I meandered out to the couch once-in-a-while to watch television (my beloved had himself set up at a standing work table in the living room to work with one eye and watch the World Cup Soccer games with the other. (He a former All-American level player.)

I colored in my coloring book and read a lot. The coloring was so relaxing and appealing to my artsy side that I colored for hours. I read several books—paperback, hardcover, Kindle books and magazines. (I whittled down my magazine pile significantly!) For the most part, exercise meant padding from my bedroom to the living room, kitchen and family room. I wasn’t to bend over or exert myself. (It was pretty nice not having to clean the house or do the dishes for a couple of weeks!)

Then I ventured outside to sit in the sun one morning. (You don’t want to be sitting in the June sun in Tucson past 9:00 or 10:00 AM.) The sun warming up my bones as I rocked back and forth in my patio rocking chair felt glorious. I knew it would help the healing.

When I felt a little stronger and was done with my heavy pain meds (three to four days post-surgery), I padded down the driveway (we have a longish driveway) to the mailbox and back. Then I started joining my husband for a stroll—a very slow stroll because our geriatric black lab requires S-L-O-W)—down to the cul de sac corner and back home. Since there’s a hill on the way back, I needed to pay attention to how much my heart rate elevated. I creeped up the short hill.

Then the cul de sac progressed to down to the corner, and then up another hill and around a different cul de sac with my bundle-of-energy Shetland sheepdog. She didn’t like my S-L-O-W pace, but she tolerated me. I think she knew I was sick because she’d been banished from our bedroom and from napping on our bed with me. I just couldn’t take a chance of her pouncing on my chest and plastering her signature kisses on my face. The sad look in her eyes at the banishment was hard to take.

I added a dip in the pool after my short, s-l-o-w walks and then progressed to doing light “running” and sliding (like side skipping) in the pool, being careful not to raise my heart rate too much.

But, sure enough, as soon as I started feeling a lot better and more energetic, I ramped it all up too much, crashed the day after. (I don’t always take my own advice.) I rested the next day and then struggled back. Then the day I got my stitches removed, I was so happy with the good news the doctor gave me, that I went to the gym and worked out for a couple of hours. That included about 3 miles on the treadmill and some light machine weights. Then I tooled around town to do some errands. I wasn’t in a rush, but it was a hot day, and I was out and about for almost seven hours.

And guess what happened? Yup. Crashed again.

So I’m easing back into it once more. Everyday has become a “wait and see how I feel and what I can do” kind of day. My husband and I are walking what’s known as The Loop here in Tucson, a beautiful pathway along a seasonal river. We walk just part of it and have increased our round-trip mileage to 5.2 miles. We even tested our new Gore-Tex rain jackets in the monsoon rain.

But I’m not back to doing that kind of mileage everyday, which I need to be doing to train properly for our pilgrimage. And 5.2 miles is far below what we’ll have to walk on a daily basis when we get there, even though we’re planning to take once-a-week Sabbath days.

I can’t worry about that, though. God knows where I need to be, and He’ll direct me. (I just need to pay attention.) And if we have to cut down on our daily mileage while on pilgrimage, then that’s what we need to do. And be joyful in the cutting back! There will be something to learn in long days and short.

Until then, I need to continue to pace myself, and pay attention to how I’m feeling from one day to next. Then decide if I can push myself a little more one day, or lighten the load.

For now I need to continually remind myself that I’m still in recovery, and plan accordingly.

The bonus is that in the process, I’m also learning much about pacing life so I can enjoy it more.

I think that’s a pretty good tradeoff!

Question: How have you had to change your exercise program due to surgery or injury? And how did it go for you?

NEXT WEEK: The most important part of anyone’s walking training—your feet!

Until then,

pay attention to your pace!

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

Post-Surgery Recovery Meditation—Part 1

I’m so glad the doctor wanted me to have light anesthesia for the three-hour surgery. I don’t think I could have knowingly reclined in the chair that long, with him cutting and scraping tissue from the roof of my mouth, using it to make new gum tissue in front of my four bottom teeth. Every once-in-a-while he’d talk to me, and I’d respond. And every once-in-a-while the pain and pressure were severe enough to make me shift around and moan a little. But he said I was a model patient and everything went perfectly. Thank you, Lord!

Post-surgery prescription—

Recovery usually comes with a winding path, and this recovery was no different.

I knew I was going to have lay low—very low—during recovery. I wasn’t allowed to do any strenuous exercise or activity (I finally found out that their definition for “strenuous” was doing anything that raised my blood pressure. (!) I couldn’t bend over—too much pressure on the surgical site and blood flow into the area. I wasn’t to brush my teeth (ach!), or eat hot foods, or chew on anything hard. Since I don’t do well with aspirin or ibuprofen, he sent me home with several packets of the narcotic Vicodin and a prescription for more. I also got a handful of ibuprofen packets, just in case, but I decided to stick to my liquid child ibuprofen, in small amounts.

Dealing with physical post-op pain—

Even though I don’t like taking pain meds, I did take them. People who take their pain meds to stay on top of the pain, rather than waiting for it to ramp up and get out of control, recover better. And I wanted to recover. And sleep enhances healing. And pain meds encourage sleep.

So I tried to follow his instructions to the letter and then some. I alternated acetaminophen and ibuprofen to manage the pain. I used the little ice gel pack (I got my ice!), ten minutes on and ten off, unless I was sleeping, which ended up happening a lot. I stuck to cold liquid foods the first day. (Cold beef broth is surprisingly tasty when it’s one of only several foods you can take in.) Then came the cold cottage cheese, buckets of cold mac and cheese. Then a little goat yogurt. Even though I was allowed to “chew” on soft foods, I didn’t the first week. When I finally did get around to chewing on really soft chicken and quinoa, it was a catastrophe. So away went the chicken and quinoa.

Dealing with the day-to-day recovery—

And so it went. I wasn’t allowed to pull my lip down to inspect his handiwork, but I had to gently swab diluted hydrogen peroxide on the area twice a day, and I could feel the patchwork quilt he’d sewed into the roof of my mouth. Everything I did revolved around what I needed to do to heal. And, for the most part, that ended up being my meditation.

It made all of the difference in the world having a caretaker to rely on. My precious husband stayed home to work and to see to my needs the first week. “Don’t worry about doing anything. You just had major surgery. You need to focus on recovering,” he kept saying. And that made all of the difference in the world too. Knowing I didn’t have to worry about meeting any deadlines, returning any emails, or making sure things got done. (I did text a lot, which was nice since I couldn’t chat on the phone.)

The positive emotional, physical and spiritual effects—

And after the first week of pain and the pallid skin color that comes with illness, I noticed something. The healthy color started returning to my face. I actually looked healthier than I have in some time. The worry lines started softening along with some of my “older looking” features. My eyes looked brighter, happier, even though I didn’t wear a smear of makeup for three weeks.

While lying in bed one day, I realized how happy I was to be able to focus on one thing, and feel stress-free while doing it. I realized how miserable and worn down physically, emotionally and spiritually I can become on just a day-to-day basis, with an over-scheduled and over-committed life. I realized just how much life, and the way we choose to live it, can drain you of energy, happiness and joy.

Recovery comparisons—

All of this made me think of a friend who battled breast cancer some years ago, a young mom of four.

Her husband—a worship leader—had gotten a job at another church, and we didn’t see much of one another, although I knew she was battling cancer. When my husband and I were out to dinner one night, we ran into her. She was going through chemo, had lost her beautiful mane of dark brown silky hair and was wearing a dark brown wig cut into a cute bob.

But her face looked strained and her body exhausted. Way beyond the look of suffering a cancer patient normally shows when undergoing chemo. When I learned she was still working at the bookstore during her treatments, I asked why. Her shoulders slumped, and her eyes looked sad when she responded. “I have to. To keep my medical insurance.”

I felt horrible for her. My friend couldn’t lean into her treatment or cancer recovery, meditate on it, and focus on victory because she had to work. She had to drag herself out of bed everyday to put in her hours just so she could keep getting the treatment she needed. Not only did she have the stress of severe sickness weighing on her heart and chewing away at her body, she had the emotional and physical stress of maintaining a daily work grind.

My friend finished her treatment, had breast reconstruction and seemed to be doing well. Until the cancer returned, and she passed away. She worked through all of it, and I often wonder: How would she have done if she’d been able to focus completely on her health and recovery? If other burdens had not weighed down her heart, soul and body.

I’ve had other friends who’ve battled cancer in much the same way. Although they didn’t have to work, they lived as though they did. Determined to make sure life went on as usual during an unusual time, they pushed and exercised, and tried to muscle through the treatment. And none of the people I’m talking about survived. They may have seemed to be doing okay, but then the cancer returned or metastasized beyond treatment. The one friend told me she returned to cycling training as quickly as she could in order to get the chemo out of her body.

Now I haven’t done any research on it, but I’m wondering if that kind of approach typically leads to that kind of ending. I know it’s important to do things you love and maintain social contact, and family connection during a time of illness, I wonder if, in our haste to pursue normal or not let anything change our course, we don’t deliberately lean into and meditate on healing as much as we should. Nobody likes pain or problems, and we tend to fight and run from them with all of our being. But maybe leaning into them, meditating on them, and embracing them is the best prescription.

There really is a lot to be learned in the course of an illness and recovery. Maybe wrapping our arms wide around it and working to extract everything we can from the event is the best thing we can do to enhance healing.

To consider—

What are you going through right now that you’d be better off leaning into?

NEXT WEEK I’ll talk about several things I learned and took action to correct—to enhance my physical, emotional and spiritual health now, and in the future!

If you join me this Wednesday for Workout Wednesdays, I’ll give you a brief overview of what went right and what went wrong in the exercise department during my initial recovery.

Until then,

Don’t miss a single meditation opportunity in your life!

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).

Pre-Surgery Preparation: Prayer and Meditation

I’m having surgery tomorrow morning. Early. Check in time is 6:45 AM, with surgery scheduled for 7:00. I’m not looking forward to it, but who ever really looks forward to having surgery. I’m worried. Okay, more than a little anxious about the pain, since the type of surgery I’m having is rumored to be excruciating.

In an effort to keep my teeth decay-free during this horrid two and a half years of wearing braces, I’ve overzealously brushed and flossed and managed to severely damage the gums around my bottom four front teeth. Because of the gum recession, the bone density of the roots on two of the teeth has already decreased to such a dangerously low point that I am at risk of losing the teeth. Ugh!

Surgery preparations—

Of course there is a mile-long list of things I must do and must not do prior to the procedure. Like: stop all anti-inflammatory meds (like Advil, ibuprofen, etc.) four days prior to surgery so my blood clotting capability isn’t affected; and no concentrated caffeine drinks, like Red Bull. (No problem there.) No strenuous exercise 24 hours before surgery (I should have asked him to define “strenuous.”) And stop food and water intake six hours before.

The process—

He’ll be carving out tissue from the roof of my mouth and making new gum out of it to cover up the exposed roots. To enhance healing, he’ll be drawing my blood and mixing the platelets and stem cells with tissue and applying that to the wound. I won’t be able to apply ice packs anywhere near the surgery site (ice is always my pain treatment go-to) because any pressure to the surgical site can undo the delicate tissue. So much for the hoped-for ice.

Recovery time is six weeks, with the first several days off-limits to chewing, sucking liquids through a straw, (the vacuum can undo the sutures and tissue), or tooth brushing in that area. (I don’t think I’m going to attempt to brush any tooth in my mouth those first several days!) Room temperature liquids and swishing with water will be the norm.

Along with a lot of pain.

And that’s what I’m preparing the most for.

Meditating for mental (and physical) success—

The last thing I want to do is go into the morning exhausted and mentally overwhelmed. So I needed to spend today (the day before surgery) in mental and spiritual preparation for this three-hour, anesthesia-blessed procedure. I’m laying low, resting, doing some last-minute tidying up around the house so I can recover in a clean, dust-free environment.

And I’m spending a lot of time praying.

I’m asking God to prepare my body and mind for this, and to respond well, and joyfully. After all, my concern led to questioning the condition of my teeth, and two dentists recommending the best oral surgeon in town, a guy who uses the latest and greatest procedures to maximize success. And I managed to get this done before being surprised—like when my two front teeth might have ended up in a crisp apple I had just ripped into.

I’m thanking God for going ahead of me to prepare the procedure room, every last bit of equipment and the doctor and his assistant for the surgery. I’m requesting that God guides the doctor’s hands, and the assistant’s. I’m praying the procedure will go better than expected, and faster, with accelerated healing.

I’m also doing a lot of deep breathing exercise because that has the potential to decrease my stress and agitation and improve my immune system. (It’s the breathing in yoga exercises that makes that activity so successful health-wise.) Adding some light stretching will help, since I’ll be stuck in that chair for so long.

And I’m playing some of my favorite praise and worship songs, both high energy and low, to remind myself of God’s presence and promises and to increase my sense of awareness and presence—the state of mind and body posture one assumes when facing intimidating or stressful circumstances.

Overall goal—

In a nutshell, I’m focusing. And I’ll be leaning into the recovery. Resting as much as I need, or my body dictates. Setting aside other distractions. Maintaining a sense of peace and quiet amidst lots (or as much as possible) of smiles and laughter, even if they have to be internal. Doing a lot of general reading, which is a favorite activity I never have enough time for. I’m really looking forward to that!

And I’ll be spending a lot of time with my dogs, gazing into their eyes. Studies have shown that people holding gazes with their dogs showed increases in different hormones, like oxytocin, which is a feel-good hormone. Letting them give you pooch smooches also helps, but I won’t be able to allow them to do that. Too much risk to the graft.

It’s not going to be easy, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to describe it as fun. But if everything goes according to plan, it won’t have to be as scary or painful or disrupting emotionally, physically or spiritually as it could be.

Reader request—

I would appreciate your prayers. At this point, I’m planning to be away from the blog for two weeks, so please check back around July 9 for the next Mediation Mondays installment.

Until then, thanks for keeping me in your thoughts and prayers, and be thinking about how you can lighten your mental and physical load through planned and structured meditation!

Blessings,

Andrea

May you prosper in all things and be in health, just as your soul prospers (3 John 2).