When you’ve spent a decade inside the chronic illness wagon, it’s a bit like being kidnapped and held hostage by a mob hitman. Your insides are saying:
‘Will today be the day he pulls the trigger and sends you to rest underneath the lilies in a shallow grave or might you heroically escape and be freed to live with vitality again?’
A cold, infection or some type of acute illness form arrived. (Yes, I did say acute -not ‘chronic’ -which in my line of thought is a momentous distinction). At first, a small nuisance cold, this little bugger has turned into a real doozy, pins and needles in the head with coughing, with pulsating headache, inner ears spinning like ball-bearings, low grade fever, near loss of voice, and a suspicious dry cough, which finally today decided to dislodge a phlegm ball stuck in the throat or upper lung. It was the newest shade of aqua green. Enough details?! 🙂 I find myself in full surrender again, melting into insignificance on the vitality front and letting go of what might have been (but still could be right:).
Good lord, and here I was slowly making a return to consistent and deeper physical wellness. And despite my pure diet, foot reflex routine, himalayan salt gargle with hydrogen peroxide, super tincture with natural antibiotic and antiviral herbals, lugols iodine, Results RNA Silver, things are in a slow slog.
Even the Almighty Celery has been losing its super hero status. There’s a desperation that goes with a return of illness, especially when you have tasted the ambrosia of good health again, even if it was one chocolate chip from the bag.
And so much for the new exercise routine, the adventurous backpacking trip in summer and all of the things I have long been unable to participate in. The truth is, this body is not what it once was. Not even close, for when even small stressors, on the physical or emotional level occur, this bodily system does not seem to handle them to well. Heart rate becomes too elevated, bang-fatigue. Drive to Sacramento in a day…read on:
Six hours of driving on my only day off of the week- (3 there and 3 back), time with grandkids…well, I attempted this feat after 6 weeks of steady return to a higher physical vibration. You see, I found myself missing my daughter Jessica–and she sure has her hands full with work, 3 kids, ages: 9, 7 and 2 and while being 7 months pregnant.
In the last year, this kind of trip was not practical or even possible in a realistic sense.
Sure, all the usual suspects are possible: gas pump plague, ATM influenza, and door handle sepsis….did I really get exposed to an infectious agent or is it a holistic combination of circumstances–I use the word holistic with the idea that all is God’s grace and that everything that happens is for the highest good. Whether we can see that truth is another thing.
When I first arrive, Paxton, my near 2 year old grandson is having a steroid vapor administered by my daughter. He is playing and having fun. We engage in a sweet way that warms my heart; for kids at that age are so in the present moment that they have no concept of time or even sense of individuality. Life is a game for him as he pulls away from the vapor, Jessica tracks him like a hungry bear on the scent, keeping the mask of vapor right near his nose and mouth.
This little play of medications is uncomfortable for me. I feel myself freezing up, like I often did as a young boy. For you see I had childhood asthma, allergies and ear infections, just like my grandson Paxton. So did my daughter Jessica. Before I can get a real grip on the vast array of emotions and feelings that are bombarding my system, Peyton the 9 year old enters the room.
“Papa, you’re here!” He states the words with subdued excitement. My heart aches for him.
“Peyton has been bad and was doing chill time in his room, watching a movie on his laptop.” Jessica says. Peyton listens to these words with his head held low, chin tucked down, gritting his teeth. He says nothing for a few seconds, before:
“Papa let’s go outside and play!” I assure him that we will but I want to spend some time with Paxton before he goes for his nap in about 30 minutes.
My 9 year old grandson Peyton is overtly depressed (which means he lets everyone know he is angry and unhappy through a vast array of demonstrations, then has short periods of covert depression—which is how most people think of depression).
So, as this cold/toxin or infectious agent plays the latest dance in my system, I wonder about the emotional aspect of illness, about generation and constitutional dynamics–good old genetics, etc. And then there is the family constellation aspects–which are in full play with us all, creating tremendous triggers and tension from unresolved issues.
Much more can be said about these family dynamics but the bottom line is: most parents play out this drama with their kids in some form. I certainly had moments of this but since I did not primarily raise my daughter (her mom and I split up when Jessica was 1) the principle conditioning patterns where implemented by her step dad and mother.
For now, I settle in to being with what is, truly feeling and letting things be as they are.
Do I really need things to be different? If I do, suffering; if not, peace.