Modern Day Quicksand

(Not actual quicksand)

I had a lightbulb moment. (A little background first.) I was born in 73, so I’m Gen X. I grew up with Happy Days, Little House, cartoons only on Saturday mornings and no cable TV. There were two things from early TV that really freaked me out and I’m glad I have not encountered either: 1) Randomly going blind, thanks to Little House, 2) Quicksand.

I’ve seen people talking about how they thought they’d have more quicksand experiences than they have had. Then it dawned on me – we are encountering quicksand, but not in a physical sense. People with anxiety (maybe depression or ADHD also) experience quicksand daily – it feels like you’re trapped… unable to climb out or move forward. The more you struggle to get free, the worse it gets. Your feet cannot find firm ground and you begin to panic. You reach out, but nobody can hear your screams. (Usually at this point in the TV show, a dog shows up and pulls you out with a stick or something realistic like that).

I’m looking for the dog with the stick, or a stray horse with a rope, but my voice has been silent. Stuck in survival mode, I stopped writing as a self preservation tool – thinking my words were meaningless, so why bother. What if the words are my rope, helping me to slowly pull myself out of the quicksand and take a deep breath? What if I’m supposed to share my story to give strength to others instead of sinking deeper into the crippling sand?

Fear of rejection has held me back so many times. What if I open up and people pull away or think less of me? It has happened before. Usually I’m quiet, unless I feel comfortable sharing, then I end up over sharing and pushing people away. So I end up sinking deeper into the sand.

I have 25 tabs open in my brain, there is a song playing on repeat, 85 lists to do/remember, and a constant feeling of not doing enough or being good enough. Corporate culture perpetuates this by giving “meets expectations” every year for performance results. My head hears, “barely good enough, not exceptional,” despite continued results and extra time and effort.

I’m sure by this paragraph, you’re probably looking for a point, a ray of hope, or a solution of what I’ve done to turn my life around. I wish I had some words of wisdom for you. I’m holding on, some days better than others. I feel guilt and shame for my feelings, although I would never feel the same about someone else going through their own quicksand or cocoon phase. I guess my point is, that you’re not alone. If you’re going through something similar, hang on. Like the cat clinging to the tree branch on the poster in the dentist office, “hang in there.”

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Let’s get out of our quicksand together.

Healing takes many forms…

I’m still struggling to get back to regular writing. Earlier this year, we went to AZ to visit relatives. We also did some hiking. I took this picture after I climbed a section of Chapel Rock that I was convinced I couldn’t do. “Healing in Progress” seems fitting.

We had gotten to a point in the trail that seemed daunting. Myles and Cam scrambled up the slick rocks. There was not much to hold onto and the footing area was small. I tried a few times, but couldn’t hoist myself up. I decided instead of risking injury, I would wait for them to go up and come back down. I was fine with the decision. I even stepped outside of my comfort zone and offered to take pics for strangers. There was a flat/shelf-like area and it had a stunning backdrop … great photo op. I took pictures for couples, singles, groups etc. I even gave people suggestions on how to climb the rock, based on everyone I had watched.

Me thinking I’d be fine just hanging out here
This is the rock I had difficulty with. Yes it did look like a giant butt.

A while later, Cam returned to get me. “You HAVE to come up – it’s amazing! I will help you.” So he climbed down to grab by hand and help give me a boost up. And he was right – the views were amazing! I would have been fine staying where I was, I didn’t feel defeated. I would have missed some amazing views and a whole new adventure. I saw people who I had taken photos of or who I had given unsolicited climbing advice to & they smiled and said, “you made it!” Myles was a bit shocked that strangers were acting like friends, since I’m normally pretty introverted. I figured I wouldn’t see them again, so I had nothing to be embarrassed about. Sometimes we need to borrow confidence & trust in ourselves.

I made it to the end of the trail

I needed this “healing in progress” reminder lately. I had to schedule my yearly MRI, but it took me 2 months to get in to see the Dr. I went in on a Wednesday for routine bloodwork, breast exam and left with orders for an MRI. While I was there, they did my flu and pneumonia shots. 5 days later, I went in for my MRI. I’ve been having them yearly for the last 10 years, so I’m aware of the routine. 1) Fill out the paperwork and try to remember details from 10 years ago, while knowing my whole extended family medical history off the top of my head. 2) Change into the giant scrub pants & two gowns (in a room that is like a closet). 3) Get IV started for upcoming contrast. 4) Lay face down with arms over head, chest through an open area in the table. 5) Close eyes to reduce claustrophobic tendencies. 6) Insert ear plugs & put on headphones with music loud enough to somewhat dampen the VERY loud MRI noises. 7) Get slid into the machine, breathe deep and try to think good thoughts for 45 min. 8) Get slid back out, helped up, re-robed and go to get dressed. Then I wait. I waited for the results to appear in my chart. When it popped in, I scanned through, looking for the benign words I’ve seen in years past. Although it didn’t say that. It said something about significantly larger lymph nodes on the left and on the right. They wanted to do an ultrasound and likely a biopsy on the right lymph node.

My heart stopped. I felt nauseous. Was the cancer back? Was this a new one? Why the lymph nodes? How quickly can I get in? I’ll spare you the long details, but since the radiology place is a different company than my Dr office, it took several days for the orders to get called over so I could schedule the ultrasound & biopsy. Oh and the one (& only) radiologist was gone, so it would be 2 weeks after the MRI before I could get in.

There is only so much that can be done to distract someone who is waiting to find out health news. I helped build a shed. I went for walks. I looked up all possible reasons for why the lymph nodes would be so swollen. One possibility was reacting to vaccines. Although 5 days should have been enough time, and I felt fine after the shots, I was hoping I was one of the few people who react with swollen lymph nodes.

I showed up early to the appointment & tried to breathe as they ultrasound the right side then the left. After, the tech asked if I was feeling OK the day of the MRI. I said I felt fine but had my shots 5 days before. Oh good, she said, because now they all seem normal. The Dr came in to look also and confirmed that things were back to normal. What an enormous relief! I went to the car & texted my guys right away and said lots of words of thanks as my eyes welled up with happy tears.

“Healing in progress” applies to us all at some point in our lives. Remember that everyone is going through something & you may not be able to see it. Act with compassion. Peace be with you on your journey of enough.