Hot Washcloths and Small Complaints

Mandala for Mubin
by me, Mary Stebbins Taitt
click image to view larger

I find mandalas really soothing.

I made this one, just now, to calm myself.

A number of years ago, when I still lived in upstate NY and worked as a Planetarium Director (and other jobs) at the MOST, The Museum of Science and Technology in Syracuse, NY, I got a bad case of pink-eye.

It was going around the museum, and there was no way to keep every surface of the controls in the planetarium clean.

I went to the doctor, Dr. Fazio--I liked Dr, Fazio, and he gave me antibiotic drops to put in my eye. My eye got worse. I went back to the doctor. He said I had an allergic reaction to the drops. He gave me some other drops for the allergies.

My eye got worse.

He gave me yet another set of drops.

My eyes got worse.

I was a fright, and I worked with children. I could hardly see.

The nurse took me aside and said, put hot washcloths on your eyes.

OH! What sweet relief. The problem cleared right up.

I wish there was a simple solution for my current medical issues.

• BUT the doctor says no.

I don't want to complain all the time, and I apologize if it seems as if I am.

Diane, sweet Diane, says talking about what is going on with me is not the same as complaining.

(What is complaining? Everyone thinks I'm complaining? Or is it just me?)

• com·plain  /kəmˈplān/

  Verb

  Express dissatisfaction or annoyance about a state of affairs or an event.State that one is suffering from (a pain or other symptom of illness): "he began to complain of headaches".

  Synonyms:

  repine - grumble - lament - moan

  {I really WANT to moan (and do, when I'm alone).}

How much pain can a person take?

NO, really, the question is, how much pain am I WILLING to take?

It is 1:00 PM in Detroit, I have not had breakfast because I've been ameliorating the pain. Little by little, I've been doing my exercises. I
have to stop in the middle sometimes and seek relief--a hot washcloth, applied to the part that hurts.

I finally decided I needed to eat and went downstairs to make breakfast. I laid out the pan and get out eggs and vegetables, but the pain was too much for me. I am back up with the heating pad, without having actually started breakfast.

The pain was too much. (I am at my lowest weight in several years. This is a good thing, but the pain and hunger are not.)

The doctor says, no pain meds, other than ibuprofens.

I have become an invaid. I can't go anywhere, do anything. I am canceling appointments, classes, activities. I feel sad.

And lonely.

Image: Mandala for BW, by me, from scratch (on photoshop) this morning.

(I stare at it again and it really does make me feel better.)