A while back I told you about starting low dose naltrexone (LDN) to see if I could get some relief from rheumatoid arthritis pain (Ok, I said psoriatic arthritis, but that was a false alarm). It’s been two months since I started taking LDN, so I wanted to check in on what has changed (and what hasn’t).
This past weekend, I did the same 2.6 mile hike three times in two days, with three sets of people. I hiked the same loop in the same direction, and each time it was like a new trail.
The first time, I walked with a friend who I’ve hiked with regularly throughout the pandemic.The reason I kept going back was because that first hike was magical. The only other people on the trail seemed to be serious birders with big binoculars.
We stopped to speak with one couple. They told us the preserve where we hiked was in the midst of a two week migration period, when tiny birds flying north from the Caribbean rest on their way to their nesting grounds.
Since we can’t travel to the Caribbean right now, it seemed like the next best thing was to go see birds who have just spent the winter there.
I have started this post three times now, and nothing feels quite right. You see, I really can’t stand Mother’s Day, and I just had the best one ever.
If that is upsetting, feel free to stop reading here. This has been a hard year. However, if you are satisfied with your Mother’s Day celebrations and your relationship to the day itself, or if you deal with negative feelings towards the “holiday” and could use some hope, read on.
My night shift coworkers had a conversation on Friday about perfectionism and the lack thereof amongst the staff at our in-hospital coffee shop. A coworker had returned to the floor with a group order that included an iced coffee clearly marked “hot” on the outside, which is the temperature at which it was desired.
Grief is the furniture you inherited from your maternal grandmother living on your enclosed front porch for over a year because you didn’t want a daily reminder that she is gone inside your house.
Grief is slowly moving those items, one by one into your house, when it felt right.
Grief is the frame of the bed that you slept on when you spent two precious weekends caring for your Grandma when she was on hospice. It wasn’t too comfortable. The head of the bed was raised up on blocks to help with Grandma’s reflux.
