Today isn’t a Monday. It isn’t New Year’s Day. It isn’t even the first of a month. It’s Saturday, May 5th. Regardless of how insignificant today may be to make a change, I’m starting something new today. I’m hitting the reset button.
Over the past few years, I’ve tweaked with my diet and exercise. I was off gluten for awhile (and felt noticeably different), killed it at the gym. But no “plan” stuck with me.
I’ve realized that lately, I’ve been pushing and pushing my body to accomplish things despite it repeatedly telling me “no”. I’ve gone to the gym and boasted about my hour long workouts, only to not be able to move for two days after.
At a conference last weekend, my body repeatedly tried to tell me to slow down in the form of nausea and dizziness. I pushed on until my body had me hurrying up to my hotel room so I could vomit and lay down, mid session.
When I met with my rheumatologist this week, we discussed the recommendations my dysautonomia doctor had made in regards to POTS and Neurally Mediated Hypotension. She asked how fluid intake was (good, I’m at least very good with that!) and exercise.
I explained my frustration with going to the gym and not being able to function for a few days after. I couldn’t figure out how I was supposed to do an hour of exercise every day. She told me I needed to start over and that it was unacceptable for my body to feel so awful. She advised me to go to the gym, get on the recumbent (ughhhh) bike for 20 minutes and then leave.
Regardless of how good I feel, I have to stop as soon as my time is up. She said I can add on a bit over time, including resistance and strength training, but only after I see how I feel the next day or two.
I wasn’t sold on her idea but as I went for my Rituxan infusion, it started to consume my thoughts. As I pumped this nasty drug into my arm for hours, I thought about how much I am doing against my body. I am constantly pumping it full of drugs, like methotrexate and Rituxan. I eat basically whatever I want because it’s easy or I don’t want to put energy into preparing food. I push myself with the promise of “resting later”.
There are things I can’t change and I know my diagnoses aren’t going anywhere. I’m still going to have to work, raise teenagers, battle the cat for part of my bed to sleep in, and deal with traffic.
But. What if I can be a little more intentional with my body?
I can give it more quality food, the rest it is so desperately begging for, movement that is helpful not hurtful? Maybe will I feel a bit more at peace with my body and not at odds? And how will that peace come through in my interactions with the world around me?