Digest This: Trust Yourself

Since I had what they call a cholecystectomy two months ago, itʻs been up and down. Recovery was quick-- much quicker than the partial hysterectomy-- and I was walking, pooping, and eating normally in no time. Until I wasnʻt.

After a few weeks, I wasnʻt digesting my food as normally as I had been, and even though I knew this could happen, I went to see my primary care physician. To be clear, I had been forewarned. I may eat like I normally did with no problems, I might temporarily experience problems, I might experience problems for a long time. My doctor assured me I was doing okay and encouraged me to be patient with my body. Iʻd just had an organ removed, she reminded me. Itʻs going to take some time, never mind what the internet says.

And I remembered it took a year to recover from the hysterectomy. There were still minor aches and pains even after the initial recovery period. The psychological and chemical balances had still been sorting themselves out even when we were camping at Bellows in May or on vacation in Maui in July. I had to see my Ob/Gyn every 3 months for 2 years, for crying out loud. It takes a while.

In addition to the words of encouragement, my doctor also prescribed some meds to help with my digestion. It has helped me physically and mentally. I can eat without the weight of "what if?" looming over me. Except, I canʻt help it sometimes, obsessing over what this feeling is in my tummy. Is this something I need to worry about? How long has it felt like this? Wait, is it still there? What could this mean? And on and on.

Then I read something in a book I borrowed, Digestive Health with Real Food by Aglaee Jacob: "Be careful not to look too closely at your symptoms. It may sound contradictory but sometimes itʻs easy to overfocus on the symptoms, almost to the point of looking for a reaction or a problem where there isnʻt one. This is especially common for those who have become a bit fearful of food."

 

That. That was me. Iʻd become so fearful of food, my diet consisted of oatmeal, baked chicken breast, and baked vegetables. This was getting me by, but I worried I wasnʻt getting enough vitamins and nutrients, which prompted my visit to the doctor.

But Jacob goes on. "(T)ake a deep breath and trust that your body will let you know if thereʻs something wrong. You have already built a significant degree of awareness to what is going on in your body. You donʻt have to look for the message, your body will send them in a way that you can receive it."

I could trust my body.

I could trust myself.

As a person who spends an inordinate amount of time (obscene amounts, really) planning for what might happen, trusting myself in this context is novel. Living only in this moment leaves you vulnerable. How can I be prepared if Iʻm not actively and ever vigilant?

Thanks to the therapy I started after my hysterectomy, Iʻm learning to trust myself. The combined messages from my doctor, whom I love and trust, and this author, whom I know nothing about, remind me to enjoy right now. If you knew how many times I tell myself Ram Dassʻ message of "Be Here, Now," youʻd think Iʻd be an expert on it by now. Sigh. Progress, not perfection, right?

My takeaway is this: 

1. Be kind to yourself. Change doesnʻt only happen in one direction. Itʻs a sliding scale or a spectrum. The closer I get to my goal and maintain that position, the better, but I might fall back on familiar habits. Progress, not perfection is not just a mantra. Itʻs not pass/fail.

2. Stop expecting bad things to happen because theyʻll happen whether or not I expect them, and the constant waiting around kinda puts a damper on living.

3. Iʻve studied reading and writing and know that lists of 3s are good. (Try turning in a paper with only two points in your thesis. I dare you.) Alas, in this case, I donʻt have a third. I donʻt even have a proper conclusion, which would definitely dock points on that academic paper, except to say that Iʻm thankful for my doctor(s) and for the library and for friends who remind me to use what resources are available to me and then trust in my own good sense.