Yesterday I got myself to the chiropractor. That electrical stimulation? Oh. My. God. It felt so amazing. I see an orthopedic chiropractor, and he also did a bit of massage. By the time I left he'd loosened the muscles enough that I could get sort of straight. Of course, it didn't last long, but it felt good. I'm going to go again Monday, after I teach.
This morning I was able to take a shower and not die. There is some improvement but it's ridiculously slow.
Then we had to go to the bank to close on our refinance. The number of times you have to sign your name for this sort of thing borders on the insane.
Rob agreed to do the grocery shopping, so as soon as he and Emma left I got myself upstairs and managed to sit next to the bed and fold two loads of laundry. After a brief rest I emptied the dishwasher and cleared off a counter top so he'd have a place to unpack the groceries.
I am amazed at how guilty I feel listening to him get the groceries in and put them away (with Emma's help). It's funny really --my weekends are always full of laundry, grocery-shopping, and cleaning. But I feel guilty that he will have to somehow fit these things into his weekend. Why is that?
I think it's definitely related to an article that Jenn (of Juggling Life) linked to today. An excellent article for anyone who's enjoying peri-menopause.
I can relate to the guilt of listening to others doing the work (although I'm OVER the guilt of my husband cooking dinner... good luck to him giving that chore back on a full-time basis!) but I can also relate to this:
ReplyDelete"Fertility’s amped-up reproductive hormones helped Aunt Carol 30 years ago to begin her mysterious automatic weekly ritual of roasting lamb just so and laying out 12 settings of silverware with an OCD-like attention to detail while cheerfully washing and folding and ironing the family laundry. No normal person would do that—look at the rest of the family: they are reading the paper and lazing about like rational, sensible people. And now that Aunt Carol’s hormonal cloud is finally wearing off, it’s not a tragedy, or an abnormality, or her going crazy—it just means she can rejoin the rest of the human race: she can be the same selfish, non-nurturing, non-bonding type of person everyone else is. (And so what if get-well casseroles won’t get baked, PTAs will collapse, and in-laws will go for decades without being sent a single greeting card? Paging Aunt Carol! The old Aunt Carol!)"
What I'm not sure of is how I feel about that reclamation of self. I keep seeing it as selfishness and being self-centered but perhaps I'm not living in two seasons at once?
er.... correction:
ReplyDeleteI am living (instead of not living) in two seasons at once.
I'm in PT right now and at every session, I get that electrical stimulation + ice on my sore areas and hoo boy do I feel AMAZING afterward. That plus some deep tissue massage and I can almost remember what it feels like to be pain free.
ReplyDeleteHere's my perimenopausal moment of the week - coming to the realization that I hate my hair long. Pat & I have long discussed 'women of a certain age' who suddenly cut their hair short - and how it's not always attractive. My mother has always had her hair short and when she reached that age, it got even more so. I don't look good with short hair and have long promised him I would never cut it short. This morning I got up and went and got it cut - not as much as I would have liked to, but he was definitely alarmed when I told him how much I just. could.not.stand.my.hair.long.anymore. period. Between the hair and the rash on my face the doctor diagnosed as PM as well as the fact that some nights I keep the bed VERY warm indeed, this business is getting old quick. And I'm just getting started - I could have a good 10 more years of this. Or more.
ReplyDeleteI'm suddenly getting much better about being able to drink Vodka. I think I might embrace that aspect.
I'm so glad you're on the mend a bit now!
ReplyDeleteI'm learning to let go a bit and make others pick up the slack around here. It's good training for them.
Yay for e.s. and massage! Boo for ridiculous woman-guilt. I'm guilty of it, too.
ReplyDelete