A manifesto, by author Terry Tempest Williams in a book on 'Creative Non-Fiction'
I write to make peace with the things I cannot control.
I write to create fabric in a world that often appears black and white.
I write to discover. I write to uncover. I write to meet my ghosts. I write to begin a dialogue.
I write to imagine things differently and in imagining things
differently perhaps the world will change.
I write to honor beauty. I write to correspond with my friends.
I write as a daily act of improvisation. I write because it creates my composure.
I write against power and for democracy.
I write myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams.
I write in a solitude born out of community.
I write to the questions that shatter my sleep. I write to the answers that make me complacent.
I write to remember. I write to forget. I write to the music that opens my heart. I write to quell the pain.
I write with the patience of melancholy in winter. I write because it allows me to confront that which I do not know.
I write as an act of faith. I write as an act of slowness.
I write to record what I love in the face of loss. I write because it makes me less fearful of death. I write as an exercise in pure joy.
I write as one who walks on the surface of a frozen river beginning to melt.
I write out of my anger and into my passion.
I write from the stillness of night anticipating -- always anticipating.
I write to listen. I write out of silence. I write to soothe the voices shouting inside me, outside me, all around me.
I write because I believe in words.
I write because it is a dance with paradox.
I write because you can play on the page like a child left alone in
sand.
I write because it is the way I take long walks.
I write because I believe it can create a path in darkness.
I write with a knife, carving each word from the generosity of trees.
I write as ritual.
I write out of my inconsistencies. I write with the colors of memory.
I write as a witness to what I have seen. I write as witness to what I imagine.
I write by grace and grit.
I write for the love of ideas.
I write for the surprise of a sentence.
I write with the belief of alchemists.
I write knowing I will always fail. I write knowing words always fall short
I write knowing I can be killed by own words, stabbed by syntax, crucified by understanding and misunderstanding.
I write past the embarrassment of exposure.
I trust especially myself and slide head first into the familiar abyss of doubt and humiliation and threaten to push the delete button on my way down, or madly erase each line, pick up the paper and rip it into shreds -- and then I realize it doesn't matter, words are always a gamble, words are splinters from cut glass.
I write because it is dangerous, a bloody risk, like love, to form the words, to say the words, to touch the source, to be touched, to reveal how vulnerable we are, how transient.
I write as though I am whispering in tor he ear of the one I love.
I write to create fabric in a world that often appears black and white.
I write to discover. I write to uncover. I write to meet my ghosts. I write to begin a dialogue.
I write to imagine things differently and in imagining things
differently perhaps the world will change.
I write to honor beauty. I write to correspond with my friends.
I write as a daily act of improvisation. I write because it creates my composure.
I write against power and for democracy.
I write myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams.
I write in a solitude born out of community.
I write to the questions that shatter my sleep. I write to the answers that make me complacent.
I write to remember. I write to forget. I write to the music that opens my heart. I write to quell the pain.
I write with the patience of melancholy in winter. I write because it allows me to confront that which I do not know.
I write as an act of faith. I write as an act of slowness.
I write to record what I love in the face of loss. I write because it makes me less fearful of death. I write as an exercise in pure joy.
I write as one who walks on the surface of a frozen river beginning to melt.
I write out of my anger and into my passion.
I write from the stillness of night anticipating -- always anticipating.
I write to listen. I write out of silence. I write to soothe the voices shouting inside me, outside me, all around me.
I write because I believe in words.
I write because it is a dance with paradox.
I write because you can play on the page like a child left alone in
sand.
I write because it is the way I take long walks.
I write because I believe it can create a path in darkness.
I write with a knife, carving each word from the generosity of trees.
I write as ritual.
I write out of my inconsistencies. I write with the colors of memory.
I write as a witness to what I have seen. I write as witness to what I imagine.
I write by grace and grit.
I write for the love of ideas.
I write for the surprise of a sentence.
I write with the belief of alchemists.
I write knowing I will always fail. I write knowing words always fall short
I write knowing I can be killed by own words, stabbed by syntax, crucified by understanding and misunderstanding.
I write past the embarrassment of exposure.
I trust especially myself and slide head first into the familiar abyss of doubt and humiliation and threaten to push the delete button on my way down, or madly erase each line, pick up the paper and rip it into shreds -- and then I realize it doesn't matter, words are always a gamble, words are splinters from cut glass.
I write because it is dangerous, a bloody risk, like love, to form the words, to say the words, to touch the source, to be touched, to reveal how vulnerable we are, how transient.
I write as though I am whispering in tor he ear of the one I love.
Wow, truly and honestly. wow. That is so fitting for this journey that we are taking together. I had heard it once when I was younger and it stuck until all matter of these years later - it seemed appropriate to share with you guys :) There are a couple of disclaimers that I want top throw out there before we jump into this week. First off, this was a medically graphic week for me, and I will be explaining whats been on and why I vanished. Secondly this has been a week full of ups and downs, of making new friends and reassessing some of my older ones, many learning events. Thirdly, this has been a very difficult week for me, self discovery wise, and I am still working through some of my recent revelations. Whatever you decide with this blog, thank you for coming on this ride with me and for all of the prayers, thoughts, support that I have been getting from everyone, and the conversations - not all of them are bad stories, most fun or funny, and all coming from all of you - I can feel the good juju flooding my system and it is helping....now on to the week :)
As many of you know, I have been absent from life for almost a week now, without any real explanation - my apologies for anyone that I worried, that was not my intent; to be honest, I worried myself - here's what happened. As most of you know I have really been pushing myself in the gym every day, with me adding to my workout from the day before. It has been and felt amazing and I have really noticed the changes with my body. As part of my lifestyle change I have to drink a lot of water, and with working out I consume even more usually upwards of 100 ounces a day if not more. Well, about two weeks ago I noticed that I had stopped urinating. Maybe I shouldn't stay stopped, because I was still going about an ounce a day, but it certainly wasn't as much as it should be. My first thought was a UTI because I had a strong and frequent urge to go but I was still not able to. Then I began to think that maybe my workouts had something to do with it. Obviously I sweat a lot while at the gym, so I began to assume that I was sweating too much liquid for me to really have to pee. Then the extreme nausea started to happen. It started with basic food. I would eat something and I would instantly become sick. It felt like the food would just sit on top of my stomach until I would finally throw up. Me being foolish, I ignored it. Nausea is a common problem with the surgery I had, so I blew it off. Then Monday came. I was at my break at work and I took a drink of water, and was instantly sick. I tried drinking again several times, each with the same result, and I finally became worried enough to call my doctor. Doc wanted me in his office immediately so I left work and drove up to the Springs. I went back in with Doc, explained to him what was going on and how long it had been going on, he checked my hands and feet - my feet were swollen the size of balloons, and the skin on my hands had no rebound - and looked to make sure I wasn't jaundiced. I was in his office a total of ten minutes and was handed orders to be admitted to the hospital. We all thought the same thing, I was just too dehydrated and once I got some fluid in system things would work out. We started with saline IV's and some meds for nausea, but I still wasn't getting better, and I still wasn't urinating. Doc finally ordered some bolus's to see if we could kick start my kidneys. Sure enough, they worked and I was finally able to pee after ten days. Unfortunately, that didn't fix everything, I was still completely nauseous and couldn't tolerate any intake. The first test we did was an upper gi, barium, some god awful salty confection, and lots of rolling, not the most fun I've ever had. Thankfully the gi showed that there were no leaks, huge bonus, but we were still in the dark as to what was going on. Next test was an ultrasound to look at all of my inside parts, again, normal! We were all so frustrated. I couldn't keep any food or liquid down and every scan they ran came up good. It had gotten so bad that Doc was talking about a feeding tube if we didn't get this fixed asap. My nurses and I were convinced it was my gallbladder, regardless of what the ultrasound showed. It may not be swollen when looking through the ultrasound but every symptom you can name for gallbladder failure fit. So, Doc ordered what is called a hydroscan. With this test you lay on a table and they inject a small about or radiation into you veins. You can watch the screen in front of you as your liver comes into view and then your gallbladder - it kind of looks like a Rorschach test lol. Once that is fully visualized - which takes about an hour - they inject another liquid to watch the gallbladder fill up and then watch it drain - that test takes almost two hours, but it is kind of cool to watch and you get a tv too. Within two hours Doc was in my room. The nurses and I were right, my gallbladder was gone. This was Thursday and we finally had some answers. My surgery was scheduled for first thing Friday morning. The night before and the morning of surgery you are supposed to wash with certain soap to get rid of all of the bacteria, only problem with this I am allergic to it. So, the nurse called up to Doc and we ended up doing a different sponge bath to get me ready. Went down for surgery at 6 and was back right on time. Surgery went perfectly, without a hitch. They did four incisions - for those of you that are counting that means I have a total of nine incisions on my belly now lol - filled my abdomen with gas (again) and pulled my gallbladder out through my belly button. The surgery took a little over an hour and I actually woke up in recovery. I was sore, of course, but I could already tell I was feeling better, first time in weeks I didn't feel like vomiting. I am still on a liquid diet - broth, juice, jello, popsicles - and I'm not eating most of it, but what I am eating I am successfully keeping down. More than keeping it down, it's not making me sick, so I think we may have finally solved all of it!!! I will still be in the hospital for a couple of days, but I am healing and feeling ok. There is one very big frustration for me with the second surgery - I can't work out again for some time. No lifting anything heavy, I have to take it slowly on the treadmill, no zumba or pilates, I can't go to kickboxing and I can't do squats or my ab challenge. I am so upset about that. I was doing so well! All of the walking, all of the exercises, I was building back to to where I was getting in an amazing workout everyday and now it's all gone. Back to baby steps :( However, every step I take, is still a step in the right direction and I know I can do this.
This week in the hospital has actually been a blessing in some ways. First off, the staff her is absolutely amazing, I could not be more blessed by them - from the Doctors to the Nurses to the CNA's, all of them have gone above and beyond. I've also found myself bonding with some of my nurses, to the point that I would call them friends. The people at Penrose are amazing to begin with, but the people on the bariatric unit have hearts of gold, truly. Yes, they do their jobs and they do them very well, but it's so much more than that. They have allowed me to talk and work through some difficult emotions, they have played and joked with me, when we knew it was my gallbladder they helped me fight for the proper tests, they have become my cheerleaders (in fact they are going to start following my blog with all of you) - they even want me to come back up so I can show them my progress. I've also had quite a few ups and downs this week, and I have had lots of time to consider everything that has been going on since my sleeve was done. Some of the emotions I've gone through I was not prepared for, at all. One of my best friends, Beth, had the lap band done awhile ago (she looks amazing by the way) and she was visiting with me the other day. It's awesome having her to talk to because she actually understands it - not that the people in my life aren't amazing and there for me but if you haven't been there, been through it, then it's hard to fully understand it. One of the first things I told her was the other day I was craving a McDonalds cheesburger (for those of you that know me you will see the humor in that, I dislike meat, I dislike McDonalds even more lol). I was telling her about it and how sometimes my cravings will hit out of nowhere, and half the time they are for things I don't like or want. She looked at me and she put it better than I ever could have, she said after these procedures you mourn food, and that is so true - I just hadn't thought of it that way. For a lot of heavy people, myself included, we eat more when there are high emotions. We are upset, scared, crying, angry, celebrating, whatever, we turn to food to either make it complete or to help us feel better; and, in some ways, food becomes like a friend - one of the most reliable friends you will ever know. After surgery you can't turn to this friend any longer, it will make you sick, uncomfortable, put you in pain, it's like this "friend" you have had your entire life has suddenly betrayed you. She is right, you do mourn food, you mourn the place it took in your life, the way it made you feel, the ease of just going to the kitchen and grabbing whatever. Now I have to pay attention to everything that is going into my system. I have to weigh everything, I have to cut it up in to small pieces so that I can take longer to eat it, I have a special plate and special silverware so that I eat less, I have to time my meals and make sure they take long enough (at least 30 minutes), there is now this whole process that goes into eating anything. I'm not going to lie, sometimes it even makes me mad. Yes, I chose this, and I don't regret it I would do it again tomorrow, but I can't just run through a drive through and eat something. Technically I can eat whatever I want, but it doesn't work that way. I have to pay extra attention to what nutrients are getting into my system because I can't eat a bunch to keep them up, and if I chose to eat something in the "junk food" category I will be full and it won't be a good full - I will feel bloated and nasty, so this entire process is redeveloping a relationship with food, this time a healthy one. Another thing I found myself sitting here processing is the fact that, as excited as I am to be losing the weight and getting healthy, I am terrified about what will happen after I have lost the weight. My size has become my shield, my comfort zone. I don't have to worry about men finding me attractive or making advances because I am so big. I am really good about making the jokes about my size before anybody else does; after all, they are going to laugh at me anyway, why not make it so they are laughing at something I said. I've been heavy for most of my life and I've allowed that to define who I am, it's how I interact with people - strangers and friends - it's how I react to my kids, it's what my relationships have been built around, what will I be when I can no longer hide behind my size? Who will I be? The idea of being so exposed and vulnerable shakes me to my core and it is going to take me quite a while to process it and figure out who I am without my size defining me. There is so much I have realized this week, so much I want to share with all of you, but I have already rambled long enough - the rest will wait for another day. Doc just said I should be released from the hospital tomorrow and then I will have up to two weeks of bed rest before returning to work, so I will have time to write more. I know this one is long and I appreciate you for sticking through it with me today. As always if you have any questions, comments, things you would like me to address, please just let me know and I will talk about it in my next blog. Until then, thank you for reading and being part of my journey, have fun, and stay safe....love you all!!!
This week in the hospital has actually been a blessing in some ways. First off, the staff her is absolutely amazing, I could not be more blessed by them - from the Doctors to the Nurses to the CNA's, all of them have gone above and beyond. I've also found myself bonding with some of my nurses, to the point that I would call them friends. The people at Penrose are amazing to begin with, but the people on the bariatric unit have hearts of gold, truly. Yes, they do their jobs and they do them very well, but it's so much more than that. They have allowed me to talk and work through some difficult emotions, they have played and joked with me, when we knew it was my gallbladder they helped me fight for the proper tests, they have become my cheerleaders (in fact they are going to start following my blog with all of you) - they even want me to come back up so I can show them my progress. I've also had quite a few ups and downs this week, and I have had lots of time to consider everything that has been going on since my sleeve was done. Some of the emotions I've gone through I was not prepared for, at all. One of my best friends, Beth, had the lap band done awhile ago (she looks amazing by the way) and she was visiting with me the other day. It's awesome having her to talk to because she actually understands it - not that the people in my life aren't amazing and there for me but if you haven't been there, been through it, then it's hard to fully understand it. One of the first things I told her was the other day I was craving a McDonalds cheesburger (for those of you that know me you will see the humor in that, I dislike meat, I dislike McDonalds even more lol). I was telling her about it and how sometimes my cravings will hit out of nowhere, and half the time they are for things I don't like or want. She looked at me and she put it better than I ever could have, she said after these procedures you mourn food, and that is so true - I just hadn't thought of it that way. For a lot of heavy people, myself included, we eat more when there are high emotions. We are upset, scared, crying, angry, celebrating, whatever, we turn to food to either make it complete or to help us feel better; and, in some ways, food becomes like a friend - one of the most reliable friends you will ever know. After surgery you can't turn to this friend any longer, it will make you sick, uncomfortable, put you in pain, it's like this "friend" you have had your entire life has suddenly betrayed you. She is right, you do mourn food, you mourn the place it took in your life, the way it made you feel, the ease of just going to the kitchen and grabbing whatever. Now I have to pay attention to everything that is going into my system. I have to weigh everything, I have to cut it up in to small pieces so that I can take longer to eat it, I have a special plate and special silverware so that I eat less, I have to time my meals and make sure they take long enough (at least 30 minutes), there is now this whole process that goes into eating anything. I'm not going to lie, sometimes it even makes me mad. Yes, I chose this, and I don't regret it I would do it again tomorrow, but I can't just run through a drive through and eat something. Technically I can eat whatever I want, but it doesn't work that way. I have to pay extra attention to what nutrients are getting into my system because I can't eat a bunch to keep them up, and if I chose to eat something in the "junk food" category I will be full and it won't be a good full - I will feel bloated and nasty, so this entire process is redeveloping a relationship with food, this time a healthy one. Another thing I found myself sitting here processing is the fact that, as excited as I am to be losing the weight and getting healthy, I am terrified about what will happen after I have lost the weight. My size has become my shield, my comfort zone. I don't have to worry about men finding me attractive or making advances because I am so big. I am really good about making the jokes about my size before anybody else does; after all, they are going to laugh at me anyway, why not make it so they are laughing at something I said. I've been heavy for most of my life and I've allowed that to define who I am, it's how I interact with people - strangers and friends - it's how I react to my kids, it's what my relationships have been built around, what will I be when I can no longer hide behind my size? Who will I be? The idea of being so exposed and vulnerable shakes me to my core and it is going to take me quite a while to process it and figure out who I am without my size defining me. There is so much I have realized this week, so much I want to share with all of you, but I have already rambled long enough - the rest will wait for another day. Doc just said I should be released from the hospital tomorrow and then I will have up to two weeks of bed rest before returning to work, so I will have time to write more. I know this one is long and I appreciate you for sticking through it with me today. As always if you have any questions, comments, things you would like me to address, please just let me know and I will talk about it in my next blog. Until then, thank you for reading and being part of my journey, have fun, and stay safe....love you all!!!
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