Things I am doing to support my body

Ok, this entry is more like a how to guide, for others walking the road, for posterity, for if I ever have to go here again (my memory can be remarkable mushy when it comes to remember the nuances of medical and health related thingy’s). So here is a broad list of some of my best practices (in no particular order), and in later posts I will go into greater detail on the more obscure or far-reaching ones.

1) Getting lots of exercise – well, lots for me is maybe jogging every two days and yoga twice a week. Boy, I sure would like to do some kickboxing too; I think that would be a double winner for a release of some of the anger I am feeling. Racquetball was good that way too, you can make so many guttural, sharp, loud sounds and no one bats an eyelash (except for that cute chick who was fluttering her eyelashes all over me afterwards, now that can’t be bad). I am also hoping to take up archery on Feb 27th. Being active, whatever that looks like, is a Good Thing.
2) Drinking lots of crazy tea made up of roots and bark and leaves – yum! I have my standard burdock root and dandelion root combo. I like to boil the crap out of it, for at least an hour, to get out all the good nutrition (hell, that’s why I am drinking it, not for the taste!). It is good for the immune system, and lymphatic drainage. I will tell you a little story about that in a later post!
3) Getting really hydrated the day or two before surgery, so that they can easily find my veins. Yuck.
4) Castor oil packs – more on this later.
5) Getting lots of sleep. Apparently, if I have a cold or flu I am not allowed to have the surgery. Don’t tempt me.
6) Having fit of laughter and other fun things. I am calling, and calling on the people that make me laugh so hard that I almost pee my pants and think that I have damaged some internal organs. We all need at least 15 friends like these. You know who you are. Keep it coming.
7) Seeing funny or hopeful movies. This is not the time to see the scary shit. The death and violent ones. No thank you! Inspiration all the way.
8) Getting lots of cuddles – really. From anyone who will give them. I love being touched. And it is a bit hard to ask in this world, and people sure look at you weird when you start touching them, randomly. I hate that (the funny looks, not the random touching).
9) Getting massages and seeing other healers. I have booked ended my surgery with two different massage practitioners. Before, the one who is like a safe, nurturing oasis. Whenever she works on me I totally forget where I am, what I am thinking and what I owe her (which has caused a few awkward moments). And after, I have the “work the heck out of my muscles” guy. To kick start me again. I have also booked a number of appointments, before and after, with my PT, energy worker that she is. My homeopath has me on aconite before (to calm me) and arnica after (to speed recovery of my body). Obviously I am not seeing an acupuncturist. My naturopath has me on rescue remedy for leading up to and the day of surgery, as well as the best vitamins going. Although who knew you had to refrain from things like garlic, ginseng, kava kava and valerian root a week before surgery because they can promote bleeding. And we don’t need any extra blood spurting around.
10) Rally the troops, far and wide. This means you. Creating my community and support around me. I talked about some of that on Feb 12th’s posting.
11) Accept the help when offered. Nuff said.
12) Getting pampered – scalp massages and pedicures work for me. Surgery is not an easy process, rewarding myself for doing my best and doing all that I can, well that just seems like a nice thing to do.
13) Eating right – yes, organic, that should be obvious. As is cutting out sugar, and coffee (not that I ever indulged), and meat and dairy. So if you are reading this and wondering what the hell left there is to eat, check out Sally Errey’s Staying Alive Cookbook (see my links) Good easy recipes, as well as some of the facts and theory behind what we eat and what we should be eating. For instance: did you know that almonds are a natural chemotherapy? Everybody (but the allergic) should eat 7 almonds a day, cancer survivors like myself should eat 20 (not sure I got that from Sally’s book, but interesting and important none the less!). Perhaps I need to write more on this later.
14) Meditating, whether that is actual sitting cross-legged and still for an hour, or a walking mediation, or a guided visualization or, in my case, quilting. Just something that quiets the mind, that focuses me.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens. Brown paper packages tied up with string, these are a few of my favourite things.