Science of Joy

There are people who are incapable of being content. Their best day is one wrought with challenge, heroic rising to the occasion, finishing with exhaustion. Lying in bed at night they feel like a survivor and revel in what they were able to accomplish against all odds.

Days with less obstacles are slightly uncomfortable, lying in bed wondering am I good enough, am I important?

Success brings stability and material wealth. Running from the uncomplicated-day-insecurity focus turns toward perfecting the world around them. The simplest becomes complicated, with layers of rules and "correct" strategies. Grocery shopping involves travel to six different stores, in a particular order, to obtain specific items. Efforts to create a "nice" event are so cumbersome all involved become so stressed that no one has a good time. All joy extinguished.

Certain events or milestones in life are expected to be happy times. Birthday parties, vacations, graduations. In my memories I recall being told what a lovely day we had but not feeling it. Happiness felt like anxiety, complication and disappointment over imperfection.

Recently wondering if there is something wrong with me, am I capable of being happy? Others around me seem to be: with a sunny day, relaxing afternoon, visit with a friend. I rest only with exhaustion. Reflecting on my success with the deck stacked against me, indeed exceeding expectations.

To learn joy- childlike contentment. Yes, a skill that will make me a better person. Indeed. Perhaps I should start with a list of ways to describe this joy..... then test methods to achieve it.... maybe then a survey to determine the effect of this joy.... whew I've got a long way to go...... I'd better get back to you on this one.....

Success in abundance

Another little habit of mine, I love to tear ideas out of magazines. I have file folders of these loose pages. When assigned bread for the Thanksgiving dinner I was excited. Directly to the food/recipe stack, Real Simple circa 12/2004, holiday quick breads as hostess gifts.

Pumpkin-Date Corn Bread, Chocolate-Cherry-Walnut-Bread, and the standard Banana Bread a friend's recipe. Grocery shopped ahead of time. Well, okay worked all weekend but sent my husband to the grocery with a detailed list: flour (all-purpose), baking powder (red round can NOT orange box). Made special trip Tuesday night to Hobby Lobby with 10 minutes until store closing found pretty ribbon and fall foliage to decorate. Left work early Wednesday night turned the kitchen into baking central, with three breads in the oven. Success! Toothpicks came out clean, bread set to cool. Minutes later, breads collapsed, insides not baked, total disaster. What separates me from the true homemaker- like my mother who would have stayed up all night to to try again and make it all perfect. I picked up the phone, asked my husband to stop at the store on his way home from the gym.

He is a regular at the Bread Co. When he told the women there our story they loaded him up with five loaves- for free- he was there at closing. They collectively decided it is best to leave baking to the experts. Thanks. He was so proud to have saved the day, and with such abundance!

So for Thanksgiving I will bring one loaf of (tried and true) banana bread, wrapped in a holiday napkin with ribbon AND five loaves of day old bakery bread. Delightful.

But you know, I am really happy. A chuckle from the family will bring more then two perfect quick breads ever could have.

Little Grandma

I do this thing. Conversations replayed in my head, over and over. Yesterday morning I was thinking of the discussion over lunch with my lab-mates about Thanksgiving plans. While fixing my hair in the mirror I blurted out, "If we visit my in-laws we travel out of town." My husband from the other room replied, "What was that honey?" My babbled reply, "Oh I am doing it again-it's nothing."

It makes me think of Casa Geroma, everyone called her Roma. She was my great grand-mother. Her nightly wanderings led to placement in a nursing home, where she lived for 15 years. Her dementia broke my grandparents heart. They were faithful caregivers, traveling daily to the nursing home, feeding her by hand, making sure she received the best care. Her random conversations were endless. Her mind lived in the past, and my child face belonged to my Great Aunt Doris who in real time had wrinkles of her own. As a child I used to weave her comments together into stories imagining who she might be talking about, what they were doing.

I wanted to take care of the residents of the nursing home. My brother and I still remember a developmentally disabled woman, "My name is Rhonda, you want some gum?" We would bring her gum, and join her on her endless walks up and down the hallways. It was there I began my medical training- simple words and gestures to ease suffering, a meaningful connection with a near stranger. Unique qualities for a cardiologist I am told, for me a gift blessed from a great grandmother who never really knew me and a family who shows love by showing up, and doing the right thing.

They are all gone now Great Grandma, my Grandparents, even Aunt Doris. I feel myself slip into helplessness, realizing these orthopedic tools of independence were first introduced to me in that nursing home. The random conversations in my head work to make sense of my trip away from the path I carefully planned. From the periphery the perspective allows me to see my connection to these loved ones.

"To keep you independent"

"Here is a list of assistance devices you will need before your surgery. They are important to keep you independent," instructed the nurse. It sounds like something I would say to a patient- a positive spin. To soften the fear instilled by the news that at 33 years old I will need an apparatus to don my socks and a bedside commode to take care of my business. Had my pre-op outpatient visit today. Locked in for January 16th. Since he plans to approach arthroscopically I will not need to donate blood or take coumadin. He said prepare for 8 weeks on crutches, 4 weeks home from work. Honestly that sounds better than I thought it would be.... but I imagine it will not be a cake walk. I told him how my back killed me studying for the boards, and apparently that is common. Something about the impingement making me sit differently. So maybe I am not totally falling apart.

Healing

My test is behind me. This week I was in Florida at the American Heart Association meeting. Now I am home, in my regular schedule. Looking forward important dates are approaching, but my trajectory is planned. A series of heart to hearts with dear friends & family has calmed my spirit. It just feels like everything is the way it is supposed to be. Very surprising, considering the degree of unexpected turns my life has taken over the past year. Today I am reflecting, considering the fact that usually when experiencing calm I take it as an opportunity to power up. But for now I will rest. Sleep. Get back into the water. Stop drinking coffee all day. Smile more. Heal.