A Taste of Flava | When My Body Changed the Plan

Monday morning, I woke up moving slower than usual.

My whole body felt achy. Taking a shower and washing my hair were more difficult than they should have been. Even getting dressed took longer because every movement required more effort.

But I kept moving.

We are heading into fall, and I already know that the changing weather can affect my arthritis. Cooler temperatures may feel refreshing coming through my window, but my joints do not always appreciate the shift.

I have been thinking about how I can better prepare myself for the coming season—physically, mentally and medically.

However, Monday morning was not just a little stiffness that I could ignore.

The pain in my hips, right hand and left shoulder climbed to an eight or nine. It hurt even while I was sitting still. I have lived with pain for a long time, and I know the difference between discomfort I can work around and pain that is demanding my full attention.

Tylenol was not enough.

Still, I logged in for work.

That is what I do. I show up. I take care of my responsibilities. I answer the phones and help the patients on the other end who may also be hurting, frightened or frustrated.

But as I sat there trying to work through my own pain, I had to be honest with myself: I might need to call off.

I sent Mom a warning message. I warned the work grandkids that I might not be able to make it through the day. I also sent a MyChart message my PCP because I need more help managing this pain.

Sometimes determination means pushing through.

But sometimes determination means admitting that what you are currently doing is no longer working.

While all of this was happening, I looked outside and saw that the moon was still hanging in the morning sky. The squirrels were already running around, busy with their own little lives. Then something bizarre-looking flew past my window before I could figure out what it was.

Life outside my tower was moving right along, even while everything inside my body was telling me to slow down.

There was something almost comforting about that.

The moon did not disappear because I was hurting. The squirrels did not stop running. The mysterious creature did not wait around for me to identify it.

The world continued—and I was reminded that I am allowed to pause without believing that everything will fall apart.

I do not like feeling limited by my body. I do not like changing my plans because of pain. And I certainly do not like admitting that I may need more help than Tylenol and a determined mindset can provide.

But this is where I am right now.

Preparing for fall may mean more than pulling out my fuzzy blankets and enjoying hot coffee by the window. It may mean having a better pain-management plan, listening more closely to my body and allowing myself to rest before the pain completely takes over.

Monday did not go according to my plan.

My body changed it.

And instead of treating that as a personal failure, I am learning to recognize it as information.

My body was speaking loudly.

This time, I listened. 🌻

From Flava in Her Tower 🌻