Approach vs Avoidance

One of my favorite blogs, Heart Sisters, recently ran a repeat of an excellent article on why we so often do not heed our physician’s warnings of adopting a healthy lifestyle. You can read the article here: Heart Healthy Advice

My own doctor (the general practitioner) is an aggressive proponent of healthy living and over the years has lost patience with my lack of self-discipline. Although I love his painfully honest style, I find myself avoiding an appointment with him just to avoid the inevitable lecture. The last time I was in to see him (months ago, as I keep postponing my checkup) he gave me a raised-voice talking-to that left me feeling ashamed and very much like a child whose parents love her no more.

Guilt is a life partner that looms ominously in the background to keep me aware of my failures, and this particular doctor appointment fed the monster like an all-you-can-eat buffet. Weeks of ignoring the monster softened the blow, but the trauma remains. I’ll reschedule that appointment, but not until I’ve lost enough weight that “Doc” will be proud of me.

In the past he’s tried the approach goal with me but because of my own lack of self-discipline, those talks yielded no change in my habits. I was plowing through life, full steam ahead, living on caffeine and cigarettes, and eating whatever I wanted in ridiculous proportions. Weekends were a bourbon and food celebration of making it through another week working my butt off in a job that didn’t suit me at all.

After reading the article referenced in the Heart Sisters blog I pondered what might have worked with Doc’s lectures to motivate me to really implement a healthy lifestyle. Counseling, perhaps? A group of friends didn’t work for me; those precious gals couldn’t be with me physically and it was so easy to mislead them to think I was on my best healthy behavior. I honestly don’t know the answer. What would have built my self-discipline enough to win this battle?

Perhaps more self esteem.  Caring enough about myself. Loving myself. Ugh. That’s a subject for another time.

© Maria R. Conklin and Journey Of A Tired Heart, 2015-2016

If It Must Be, Let It Be Me

After receiving a diagnosis of Dilated Cardiomyopathy – for the second time in my life – I’m struggling to make sense of it all.  I’ve lived half a century on this earth and have no idea how much time is left in my visit here.  There is no need for obsession or regret, and there is no room for cries of “why me?”.  If someone in my circle of life must carry this disease/condition, I would prefer that it be me.  As martyristic as that may sound, there is a simple arrogant logic: I am best equipped to deal with it.

My children are grown adults, my husband is loving and supportive, and I have a great network of family and friends.  I have the chutzpah to push through questionable situations, and the tenacity and strength of soul to manage life in spite of the challenges.  So if it must be, let it be me.

Now to other things:

  • Working on the Last Will and Testament
  • Working on a formidable Bucket List
  • Making an extra effort to show love and understanding to everyone in my world
  • Trying to figure out how to pay bills with no income
  • Forcing myself to move through the intense, unforgiving pain of osteoarthritis
  • Managing stress, guilt, and all the other haunts in my mind
  • Trying to understand, improve, and get a solid grip on, my relationship with God
  • Finishing all the home improvement projects I’ve initiated in this old house
  • Observing and analyzing everything from the simplest pleasures to the most complex algorhythms

I’d love for you to join me on this journey.  The more, the merrier, as they say.  Be forewarned: I am candid to a fault, sappy, soupy, and even superfluous.  And I do use two spaces after each period – old habits die hard.

 

© Maria R. Conklin and Journey Of A Tired Heart, 2015-2016