Thursday, September 10, 2009

Body Language

My parents taught me to listen to my body, and they taught me how to listen to my body. Whenever i had a tummy ache, my complaint was followed by no less than 10 questions about the nature of the ache. "Are you upset about something, where does it hurt, are you hungry, did you eat too fast, are you going to throw up, does it hurt like this or does it hurt like that?" Since it has always been that way, I never was annoyed by the questions. Instead I learned to ask myself the same kinds of questions when I was not feeling right.

When my Ulcerative Colitis flared for the first time, I gave it a few days in case it was a flu-bug, but it became clear to me soon that it wasn't simply a bug. I insisted that the Drs. deal with me rather than subject me to another test and "see what happens." Unfortunately, I had no idea what was going on and no amount of self-questioning or even talking with my parents helped me figure it out. That came in the years following when I had kidney stone attacks and appendicitis. It's amazing how many things can go wrong all in the same region of your body! But, having had colitis and paying such close attention to the symptoms so I could head off a flare made it so that I knew the other things were NOT colitis. I believe I got better care because I can explain my pain and discomfort with alarming clarity.

So, in the midst of this move, I am surprised at what is going on in my body. In the 2 other times we have moved since grad-school, we have never had stability greeting us at our destination. When we moved to the UP and also to Champaign, I didn't have a job waiting for me. In fact, my employment has been unclear and a source of great stress a majority of the last 5, almost 6 years. When we moved to MI, I didn't like the house we had to live in and never really did like it. When we moved to IL, we rented an apartment sight-unseen and wound up moving out of it within 6 months. When we moved to MI, I was newly pregnant with Clayton and soon was experiencing all-day-sickness. When we moved to IL, we didn't have a good daycare situation lined up for Clayton.

All of that uncertainty in the past, and this move seems to be the most stressful for me, and I simply do not understand. We are both very excited about Kurt's new church and the possibility of being there for many years. We have a parsonage and I love it....it's very nearly my dream house. Clayton started preschool this week and it all seems to be going very well. I have a job waiting for me at a fantastic CPA firm that I am very excited about. We are going to be quite a bit closer to many of our good friends we have missed so much. (Best of all) we are only 65 miles from the great Luther College, so I can go to Juletide and any other arts activity (within reason, of course). I'm even planning to get Luther plates for my car!

So, why do I feel exhausted and yet not at all sleepy? Why do I feel like I need some serious nourishment but am not hungry at all? Why do I feel over all crummy?

I have no flippin' idea!

3 comments:

  1. Ummm...because you just packed up a house pretty much all by yourself in a matter of days? ;)

    Sometimes, my friend, you think too much. I say: relax and enjoy the security. You and I both know that security has no lasting guarantees. ~kristen

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  2. Moving is just plain stressful, Ern. It doesn't matter how great the new place is, it is a lot of work to pack up a life (or 3) and start over again in a new place. And there are a lot of unknowns with moving, too. It's just not possible to plan for everything and your body knows that, even if you aren't consciously thinking about it.

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  3. Ya, it could be that you're older, just a little. Me, your momma, just did similar all by self and cried on and off for six months doing it. And I KNOW I'm older. Still want to cry at times. Both Kristen and Amy are good coaches...think less, feel more and realize that this is one big flippin deal, however it goes. And go it does. So many good things await you where you are. And I'm glad you blogged. My kids are good writers. Yay momma

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