Sun and Wind

Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. “

(Mary Oliver, Wild Geese)

Today I am trying to write my way out of despair.  On Thursday evening, a sore throat gradually made itself known, and then almost strangled me.  I spent all of Friday and Saturday resting, drinking quarts of hot tea and watching hours of network detective shows.  I have not slept through the night since this all started, and those 3AM – 5AM sleepless spells are taking their toll.

While the rational me knows this is nothing but a very bad cold, the two surgeries in two weeks, five weeks of recovering from surgery and now this! me feels really down. 

“Meanwhile the world goes on. “

(Mary Oliver, Wild Geese)

Bob has been absorbed in problematic proposals and deadlines, and Josh is living his teen-age life.  I lie on the couch, hacking and coughing and watching from the periphery.

Tomorrow, April 1^st, I am supposed to meet with the oncologist to come to an understanding of the next course of treatment.  I am afraid I will not be well enough to make the appointment.  If I do go, I need to track down one of those masks so I do not bring this pestilence to any other cancer patients (with compromised immune systems) in the waiting room.  There is something sickly appropriate about this happening on April Fool’s day. 

The sun is out today, but the wind is howling.  I try to focus on the sunny things – my incisions are healing and my left arm is getting a little more range of motion.  The birds who were so noticeably absent all winter are returning to my bird feeders.  And, really it is far better to be sick this weekend when there was nothing on the schedule than last weekend when there was so much I wanted to do, and I was able to do.  But it is hard to silence the howling in my head that says, “This is your fault.  You did too much last weekend.”  There is part of me that believes disease – dis-ease – is triggered by life out of balance.  But I don’t find any of that very helpful at this moment. 

My sister sent me an article about the healing powers of cinnamon and honey, so I am drinking green tea laced with cinnamon and honey, and cinnamon toast made from Sue Gunness’ fabulous brown bread.   I will go with the power of suggestion, but my dark mood is lifting a little. 

The temperature topped out at 38 degrees today, and the winds are about 25 miles per hour from the NW.  Not horribly cold, and not horribly windy.  Yet it feels like this particular year spring in Minnesota is going to need to claw its way into existence.  And this particular day, I needed to claw my way out of a fairly dark place.  But Minnesota girl that I am, I know spring and even summer will get here just not on my schedule. 

“Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world  offers itself to your imagination

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things. “

(Mary Oliver, Wild Geese)