Lessons from the Hospital

Lessons from the Hospital

So, my appendix ruptured in the middle of last week and I’ve been in the hospital for 5 days now and counting recovering from post-surgery complications and issues.

lessons from the hospitalI’ve learned a lot from this experience. Type A Go-Getters like myself don’t do well recovering at a snail’s pace, with one step forward and three back every damn day. I want to see results. I want to be the BEST at recovering, not the worst.

But what we cannot control, we must learn to accept. Kicking and screaming, maybe, but fighting what we can’t alter is a fool’s errand. To that end, these are some key things I’ve learned in my five days of recovery so far from appendicitis:

Our Bodies are Equally Strong and Frail

My mom reminded me that recovering from surgery is like labour: it helps to get out of the way and let your body do what it knows how to do. When you are tired, rest. When you need to get your bowels moving, walk. When you are puking into a tin in the middle of the night, totally lost, wasted and alone, trust that your body is doing the best that it can to heal.

In this way, I have newfound respect for my body and I feel more ready than ever to let go of my stupid issues about wishing my stomach was flatter or my armsĀ sleeker. My body is a machine, like yours, and it’s healthy to respect what it can do.

The frail part is harder to come to terms with. In the hospital, on my many daily walks around the ward, you see all manners of human frailty in each room. Someone passed away this morning in my ward and family members were clinging to each other and sobbing in the hallways outside of my room. Life does not last forever. It is only here, given to each of us, for a limited, precious, important, undetermined amount of time. We’d best not waste it.

Patience is a Virtue

I spend way too much time rushing through life. Achieving, accomplishing, worrying, Netflix-binging, trying to prove I’m valuable and worthy. What is it all for? In the hospital, you have a lot of time to stare at the wall, cursing your 4-day NG tube and dreaming about the food and drink you aren’t allowed to have because of your lazy bowels and debilitating nausea from bile build-up.

The things that really matter; those you love who love you with their whole-heart in return come to the forefront. The friends you can call and you know they will pick up your kids and love on them. The offers of support, love and encouragement from all over the place. That’s the important stuff right there. Not the to-do list and the being superwoman. Slowing things down was what I needed to see what really matters.

Receiving is as Crucial as Giving

I’m a giver. Always have been. Receiving feels uncomfortable and even selfish to me. So to be this ill, with my supportive and fabulous husband a province away when my surgery was happening meant that I had to receive from a variety of people. I had to let myself need others and it was an eye-opening, beautiful experience.

I told Jason not to fly back, but he was too worried and ignored me. So he came, to bring the kids to see me each day over the long weekend, and this was wonderful. But I also reached out to my mom and many friends for help and they gave it, with such abundance it was like a blooming flower garden in my own heart, where I could stop and smell and get lost in love and inspiration.

There are many more lessons, but I’ve wiped myself out typing this to hit my blog deadline for tomorrow so I shall stop. Plus I just saw a prisoner shuffle past my room in his flappy, vulnerable hospital gown and IV stand, two burly guards walking slowly beside him, the prisoner in leg chains. We are all humbled by the hospital, by our own weakness and frailty. We are levelled, brought out of our disguises and into our true selves. We are revealed to be both more than we thought and less. We are real, humble, true, honest. We are beautiful.

A Season of Plenty

A Season of Plenty

I’m trying to believe that I’m in the right spot along my life’s path. Too often I waste energy and joy by convincing myself that I’m falling behind. I get online (likely my first mistake) and I start comparing my progress to someone else’s. This leads to a self-induced panic that boils down to one thing: scarcity.

I hate viewing success as a pie with a limited number of slices. This faulty perception breeds paranoia and an unhealthy drive to be better than someone else in order to get ahead. Either the world is an exciting place, full of abundant possibilities, or it’s not.

Why is it so tempting to lean toward scarcity as a worldview? It’s so small and limiting. Abundance is much bigger, wider and happier. My thoughts betray me when I long for them to set me free. As humans, we are not meant to stay cramped and afraid. We are creatures of infinite possibility, but why would we try out our wings if we believe we are going to fall to the ground?

a season of plentyProcess takes time. I’m convinced that the immediacy of the internet has given us outlandish expectations that everything we want is just a simple click away. Why wait for anything? As a culture, we’ve been sold a pack of lies about how entitled we are to success without actually working for it.

The natural world is about process and always has been. Our seasons last for months and you don’t get to skip ahead just because you want to. New growth takes time to unfold. Our modern on-demand world has set up impossible standards for us. We are looking for a shortcut to what we desire. Waiting and working hard feels like it’s for suckers, but it’s the only way there is. I’m recognizing that my perception is what needs to change.

I am on a path to something and so are you. It’s often slow and methodical. It winds on us with no advance warning. We follow our curiosity and sense of wonder to see where it will take us next. Roadblocks pop up and we must spend valuable time, money and resources finding a way around them. All of this matters and it’s all part of the journey. It’s our path to walk.

Comparing our road to another person’s is a waste of time. Our hard work is leading us where we want to go. The key is to disconnect from the fantasy of overnight success. No such thing exists. I have to believe that I am where I need to be. Perseverance is slow and long, but it gets us where we long to go. I’m choosing to see the world as abundant and optimistic, instead of scarce and competitive.

I’m on my journey and you are on yours. It will likely help us both to cheer each other on and hope that together we can accomplish more. I’ve done the small and cramped worldview, and it hasn’t given me good results. It’s time to open it up: to go deep and wide and bountiful; to move away from scarcity and into a season of plenty.