My blogging bandwidth was squeezed considerably by clinical and personal stressors this past week.
I was on call for our practice, and while there were few actual pages, they were mostly middle-of-the-night legitimate medical problems. Like, Doctor, I’m coughing up blood; as opposed to Doctor, I’m having trouble sleeping.
Then there were a few complicated cases, discharge followups that I was covering for colleagues on vacation. I had a thorough refresher in the treatment of Central Nervous System Lyme Disease, as well as the logistics of arranging a month of intravenous antibiotics from the outpatient setting (on a Friday afternoon, no less, and including PICC line insertion).
Then there was our family pet drama. Little Kitty, our rescue with an exciting past, escaped the house Thursday morning. It was well over ninety, and I expected her to circle back soon, thirsty and contrite. By evening, we were worried enough to post her disappearance on our town’s Facebook page. Almost immediately, a neighbor replied that they’d seen a cat of her description get hit by a car in the late morning. They pinpointed the location, and Hubby and I took turns searching. We didn’t let the kids join us, because we were fully expecting to find our cat’s body, mangled from blunt force trauma, under someone’s shrubbery. Neighbors joined in the search, as well, but we didn’t find anything.
At bedtime, Babygirl caught me sniffling, breaking down with the certainty that our little mama cat was gone forever. She started crying too, and we had a little huggy-sobfest.
But at almost ten p.m., on my last round with the treats bag and the flashlight (people must have thought I was nuts) I saw something moving in the backyard of the house where she was last seen, and… there she was! Zoom she bolted from me, across the street (almost getting hit again) beelining for our back stairs.
She’s home, she’s fine, and we’re lucky.
With all of that, plus both kids in separate day camps with separate bus stops, and our regular workweek crap, we’ve felt a little more pressured than usual. Stressed out, you could say.
Endless research studies show that exercise, any exercise, alleviates the toxic effects of stress on the body. I knew I needed a good, long run. This morning, I got my chance.
Leo, our big old lovebug rescue cat, woke me up at dawn. He gets thirsty, and will only drink water when it’s running from a faucet, so he’ll jump on the bed and meow in my face until I respond. (Spoiled? Hell yeah. But he’s worth it.) I got up and turned the bathtub spigot on for him, then decided to just get dressed and get out.
My workout mix includes all the kids’ favorite poppy hits, and this morning, I played Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off about five consecutive times. It’s the happiest little F-you song ever. The upbeat tune perfectly captured my attitude. Throw in some yoga by the water, near the drawbridge and gorgeous little park, and my mood is re-set. I feel great, and ready to face the week to come.