Searching for ... what ,exactly?

I am having an MRI of my pancreas done this morning.  I am nervous.

I went to the Doc a few weeks ago because my poop was white.  It was after I attended a BBQ (most excellent flavors) that included very high fat meats.  I figured (and the Internet confirmed) that I should tell the Doc about it.  White is not a normal color for poop.  Blood tests, urine tests, ultra sound tests - all reveal that there is nothing wrong with me.  No stones, no blockages.  So, today is the MRI.  To look for cancer basically.  I think that this is all that is left to look at.

I do not like the idea of being in a certain position for an hour...and not moving.  I do not like the idea that - if there is any metal in your body, you could get hurt by the magnetic pull of it.  I don't know if I have metal in my body.  Nobody put any there - but, who knows what may have happened?  Something in my eye?  Maybe aliens put something inside me, I am always playing in the dirt and doing dirty things.  My Doc said I should take 2 tranquilizers.  That is good.  I don't want to feel freaked out.  Like I already do - and my anxiety grows as the minutes pass.

Well, I leave in 3 minutes.  Going to take my pills.  Wish me luck.

As much as I do not like the idea of this test - it is an excellent thing, isn't it?  To be able to see the insides so clearly.  Amazing really.

Mind Discoveries

I locked myself in an air-tight mental Tupperware container for forty three years.  Emotional trauma is a bitch.

I can't remember if I discussed the sources of that trauma, and they don't actually matter.  People experience pain and hurt and become damaged.  We cannot change these things.  They are in the past, they are what they are.  But we don't have to live in the aftermath forever.  God gave me a life and he says I deserve to live it.

I've always known that there is someone watching out for me;  Someone who is smarter and wiser and loves me. The Holy Spirit does these things, but, what I am talking about now is not spiritual.  It is my mind.   I enslaved part of myself  when I was twelve, because I truly believed that I could not exist with a portion of my personality left out to live in this world.  Problem is - we need all of ourselves in order to operate optimally.  Perhaps much of my lifetime of confusion and fear was because pre-adolescent me was trying to protect herself.

So many parts - and they are all important to the whole.

An amazing side effect of this uncovering - is that I don't feel like the pathways are clogged up with obstacles anymore.  I feel like a new part of me has been released and is happily carrying on.  In fact, she is dancing!  Stretching her legs and making plans for the future.




 

Old Drafts of Old Memories

Since it has been awhile since I posted here (except for the last post) I looked through past posts and found many drafts.  Thoughts I had and deemed unworthy of posting.  But I like this one.  So, here you are...


Monday morning Cindy and I had our weekly riding lesson.  We ride horses.  Cindy rides English style and I ride Western.  She says the English style makes her feel closer to the horse,(the saddle is smaller),  and I like Western because of Roy Rogers and John Wayne.  When I get the nuances of Western down, I'll give English a try...but that will be awhile.


It has taken me many months of riding to develop any type of mastery feelings in this venture.  In fact, I don't truly feel mastery yet - but I'm closer.  Much closer.  I can tack up and groom with confidance now.  I used to be so afraid I'd get it all wrong and hurt the horse.  Sometimes I still get the bridle twisted out of its proper shape.  Both the horse and I stand there wondering what the hell I was doing to her face. 


I have been working with a licensed trainer and lessons are an hour long.  I'm glad I did it this way because Sara has had me build skill and talent through a patient plan.  She majored in Behavioral Science and is quite adept at helping people (and animals) monitor and change their behavior.  I have never felt judged badly by anyone at the stable, except by myself.  Always uplifting, patient and kind.  I've had a glimpse of other people's dramas from time to time, but - such is life. 


I began riding because it is something I have always wanted to do.  When I was 4 years old we had neighbors who had horses.  They would go for rides fairly often and ride by our house.  We lived in Sacramento at the time.  (or was it Fair Oaks?)  Anyway - I remember standing on the corner where they would pass by on their way home from their rides.  I was too shy to speak, but I figured if I looked cute enough - they would see me and know that I wanted to ride. 

"Oh look, what a doll!  I'll bet she'd love to ride the horse.  Here, sweetie - you're so cute, I can tell you want to ride my horse.  Let me help you up into the saddle." 

In my mind I had a great time.  In my wishful young mind. 

Isn't it funny how clearly we can remember some things and not others?  That was 51 years ago!  And I can still feel the sunny, breezy day and I can smell the horses and the warm grassy mounds in the empty lot; sage I think.