My car won’t start. I’m waiting at home for AAA to take me to the dealership to get this figured out. It has happened off and on for several years. It will get fixed, then stop again. It is a little annoying. I’m trying to use everything I’ve learned to adapt to this. Be calm. Accept it. Don’t fight it. See it as a lesson.
Maybe there is a good reason I’m being kept at home right now. Maybe something bad would have happened if I’d gone on my errands today. I’m trying to trust God. I’m trying to be thankful f
Meanwhile I’m thinking about other things. There is a possibility that I might be stuck for a long time. I’m not talking about my car right now. There is a possibility that I have multiple sclerosis. I have several of the symptoms. When I went to the eye doctor two years ago she noticed that my eyes twirl in an odd way. It is called rotary nystagmus. It isn’t a disease. It is a symptom. The ophthalmologist, in standard Western doctor way, told me not to look up anything about it. She didn’t want me to be scared. She doesn’t understand that not knowing is far more frightening than knowing. At least with knowing, you can name what you are up against. You have a plan of action once you have a name.
It could be a brain tumor. It could be multiple sclerosis. It could be a side effect of my bipolar medicine. It could be nothing. It could be either something really horrible, or it could just be the way things are and this just has never been noticed by any of my previous eye doctors, ever. That part is unlikely. I go to eye doctors at least every two years.
I was sent to a neuro-ophthalmologist. Then I was sent to get an MRI. Nothing bad showed up. I’ve had a thyroid test too – fine. There are now other symptoms. My fingers have a slight tremor. I have a pins and needles feeling in my arms occasionally. I have vertigo every now and then. Nothing stays long enough to be of real interest, until something else pops up for me to wonder about.
There is no cure for it, so early detection won’t do me any good. And, standard Western medicine being what it is, it treats the symptoms rather than the cause. That treatment alone is painful and has unpleasant side effects. So I pulled open “Prescription for Nutritional Healing” – one of my favorite how-to books. It is like an owner’s manual for the machine that is the human body.
Fortunately I’m already doing some of what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m doing water aerobics and yoga. I’m eating seaweed. I’m headed towards being vegetarian.
But the most important thing I think I can do is accept it. Whatever it is. Learn from it. Maybe there is something just over the horizon that I would miss otherwise. I’m mindful of the Chinese story of the old man, the boy, and the horse. I’m mindful of Rumi’s “The Guest House”. (I have copies of these in my Resources folder.) Everything speaks to the idea of not judging, of accepting, of trusting. Everything also speaks about being with and in the moment, the now.
Perhaps I will eventually get to the point where I can’t walk. My body will be like my car – unresponsive. I’m trying to be OK with that. I’m trying to be thankful for that. I’m trying to be open to the lessons that God needs me to receive like that.
I’m breathing into it, just like with a deep yoga stretch. Just like with pigeon pose, I’m breathing into it, breathing into all the tight places.