In this past week, I went to the outpatient laboratory three times for needle pricks and stared in fascination as my crimson blood from my veins filled the multitude of vials, received excellent news on one blood test that had me cheering and eternally grateful to my ‘earth angels,’ had a CT scan, met with at least three doctors in person, had a doctor apologize to me after I snapped at her for being my adversary rather than my ally, talked on the phone with at least four doctors, reunited with one surgeon, was introduced to a new ex-surgeon who walked away from the high-paying position after he was living the dark side of insurance companies monopolizing healthcare and his own health ailments, forced myself to stay strong in my ever-present father and stepmother, and was reminded yet again of the extremely small select few friends who routinely checked on me and are strong and know me well enough to handle my crazy during this time versus those who care deeply about me but do not know what to say versus those who just are so wrapped up with their own lives to check on me even with the factual knowledge that I am walking a tightrope of life fighting not to fall down.
Yeah, I’ve had a week of rough water waves. I’m still riding them. Honestly, what other choice do I have? Drown. Not happening. Swim. Yes, I must. Even if that means swimming with the sharks when I rather be playing with the dolphins. Personally, I rather just be a killer beach whale.
By the end of the week, I went into isolation and only popped my head out like a slow-moving, tired turtle when I was forced to. One of my forced head-popping out moments was when I visited my eye doctor. Out of the page and a half of doctors, my favorite doctor is my ophthalmologist.
I probably love my eye doctor the most because I see him the least. I love that he is the ONLY doctor that I found through my medical insurance and happened to hit it off with when a rather odd occurrence happened at least five years ago to my right eye that had an ingrown eyelash and made my eye feel like someone was squeezing it so hard that it would fall out of the socket and roll on to the ground. I love him because he is the only doctor who reports good news to me. Most of all, I love his meditative voice as he experiments and presents blurry shards and slices of light to me for my eyes to focus and see clearer than ever from a distance rather than so close-up that all the little details become all jumbled up and confuse the heck out of me.
In his soothing voice that could lull anyone to sleep, he concluded: “Just a slight change. Your eyes are definitely strained—probably from all the computer work. Remember to get up every now and then to look to the distance to give your eyes a breather and break for you to see clearly and better again.”
He jotted on his prescription pad my newest degree of eyesight for glasses and my prescription goggles. With prescription in hand, I suddenly had a greater sense of clarity and seeing than I had in the beginning of this week and even before this all started roughly a month ago. I suddenly knew what I had to do. I had been fed as much knowledge from doctors as possible. I had turned to a select few for advice on how to proceed. I had fought and did the best I could. Now, I had to slow down and stop to try to gain a greater sense of clarity and focus.
It is very eye-opening what the crushing weight of pressure and stress brings out in a person. Many sides to a person rear and reveal on the very breaking point or edge. For me, I had fallen prey to one of my biggest downfall traits in that I am the most meticulous and detail-oriented person there is that I look and examine so microscopically hard close-up that I fail to see the big picture and purpose by stepping back and even walking away for a little while. On the very edge, the pulverizing pressure and my worst enemy self and all my demons were bringing out the negative and even ugly sides to me. Sometimes, the only way we are able to focus in the blurry moments is when we remove ourselves to give space and distance. Truth is revealed and beauty is seen from far away rather than up close and personal. Yet, how hard is it to welcome space and distance with open arms and without any answers it appears in near future. Extremely. To say the least.
Life is made up of many broken and shattered puzzle pieces to make up the whole picture that we cannot and will not understand in the moment. Within these broken pieces, you see in yourself how you can be and are when pushed to the very edge. You end up seeing all the truths in the people you thought would be there for you in the most difficult of times and the people who surprise you by being there for you when you least expect it. You see that the ONLY way to really see is, maybe, by not seeing…if that makes any sense. For me, I see that I no longer have time to beat around the bush on the brink of the edge and so I say things as it is AND I spend my energy and time on the people who really and sincerely care for me. Focus most definitely comes out in chaos.
How do you handle stress or pressure? What pushes your buttons to the very until the other sides of you come out? Do you tend to hone in on all the tiny details rather than the big picture?
How do you, ultimately, focus in the chaos?
Keep smilin’ until we meet again,