I'm Ready

Years ago, I had a very dear friend and mentor who was considering a huge decision in her life.  She was also a huuuuge Bryan Adams fan. So, being the typical, encouraging friend that I was, I made her a CD of "Vocational Songs" in which it included some of her favorites... some common title songs that could very easily be vocational songs... and some just hilarious and awesome songs that were sure to make her smile.  The title track was Bryan Adam's "I'm Ready".  


While the song appears to be most relevant to a relationship of some kind, it doesn't entirely apply to my situation, and yet, I can't help but feel that same sense of "readiness" that he sings about so confidently. 


My day started by reading one of those generic emails that sends a quote to my inbox every morning.  This morning, the quote of the day read:
      "Don't prepare.  Begin.  Our enemy is not lack of preparation; the enemy is resistance, our chattering brain producing excuses.  Start before you are ready" (Steven Pressfield)


This really set the stage for the remainder of my day.  I spent 12 hours on the unit whereby two of three of my patient's were cleft palate repairs.  While these are *usually* the patients that I dislike the most, it's because it's such a difficult hospital stay for the patient, the family, and the family's support system.  Imagine being 9 months old (the child is most successful if they are a certain size and developmental stage for surgery, typically around the 9month mark) and "set in your ways".  Because you were born with the condition, you have adapted and learned to bottle, suck, play, LIVE with a cleft palate (of varying degrees). 


And then, someone tells you that you can fix it!


The infant comes back from surgery with arm splints (from their armpit to their wrist) that prevents them from lifting their hand to their mouth and playing with stitches, etc) on both arms, and having to relearn how to eat and drink.  The pain is manageable.  Honestly, you could rotate between tylenol and advil and the child would probably be okay... it's the same sensation as having braces on... there is movement, there is "newness" and there is bone altering.  It's uncomfortable.  


However, the most distressing things to the child seem to be that re-training of how to drink a bottle, how to get through life without being able to really move their arms in a functional manner. 


After spending a solid 45 minutes with new parents who were distressed by their son's inability to soothe, I went on break and read an email from the program south of the border. 


They had emailed responses to my questions and somewhere along the line, I made the comment, "Recognizing that I am over reacting/worrying about something I need not...."; their response made me fall flat on my back.  "You diagnosed it right, do not worry/overthink...We do it for a living all day long"


All. Day. Long.  


It made me smile.  And realize that really, I was no different than the parents.  As the nurse in the situation above, I know what the typical stay for a cleft palate looks like... I can describe any aspect of the experience, assure family, and really... when it comes down to it, it is my responsibility to keep their child safe and healthy for that 12 hour day.  I know what I'm doing.  I've gone to school, I've passed exams, I've done this before... more than once. 


My situation with this program was more similar than I was willing to believe initially.  They are professionals.  They not only know what they are doing, have not only gone to school and written exams, but they come highly recommended.  It is clear that they are just as vested in my well-being as I am.  


There was a huge sigh of relief.  Now I feel that I'm ready to trust the process, trust the professionals to lead the way, and trust the outcome that is mine for the taking in the next year. 


And besides, if I'm not 100% ready, I just need to start.  Stop overthinking, stop my brain from running resistance and unhelpful commentary, and just start.  


Just. 


Start. 


Why?


I'm ready!

Just one of those days...

I am writing in purple becaue it really seems to be the most neutral and peaceful colour in the whole array that blogspot lets me choose from in order to write this blog.

I am having 'one of those days'.

Metaphorically speaking, it's like... well... hmm...

Imagine, if you will, a young bride who is preparing for her wedding in a year's time.  (Let me interject to say that I am neither a bride or discussing weight, but my sister recently got married so I am going to use this analogy anyway.

Imagine a bride whose wedding is to take place in one year. 

The first few months of the twelve are spent working on a guest list, choosing bridesmaids (and their dresses), and getting your name on the reservation list for a venue and reception caterer.  When the still, somewhat peaceful bride reaches the midway mark, her attention shifts to finding the perfect wedding gown, ordering flowers, and arranging a photographer to be present at the ceremony, interim and reception.  When the T-3 month mark hits, this is where the bride turns frantic.  Her attention is dedicated to nothing more than the "details".  It is usually at this point that the bride discovers that in actual fact, she is hoping to be a few pounds lighter in the face and arms to look her utmost best on the big day. Getting herself to a gym and hiring a trainer that assures success in the next three months, the bride gives it her all.

For three months, she trains, lifts weights, runs, and when she thinks that she can't do it anymore, she just keeps forging forward... all for the "win" of being truly breath-taking on her day.

When it comes time for the weigh in at the end of her membership, she steps on the scale only to see that after all that... her number only changed by 0.02of a lb. 

Completely and utterly deflated, the bride heads for the showers.  Truly takes all she has to keep the tears in her eyes.  Was all her hard work for nothing?  How could, even after all that, the result not be some dramatic, life altering change?

Then, in the stillness of her heart, the bride remembers this: muscle before fat, strong as a jack... fat before muscle, sturdy as a sack. 

What the bride did not account for was that muscle, though leaner, weighs more than fat.  She did meet her goal of loosing her stomach and arm fat, but in her dedication, it was replaced with bulked up muscle tissue.

The important point is that the bride did not fail in life... in fact, she very much accomplished what she set out to do. What was incorrect, was her goal.  It was too specific, too narrow in scope, too restrictive on what she was capable of accomplishing. Rather, the bride needed to set the goal of becoming more healthy, prolonging her lifespan, learning about her body, etc... the list of possible goals that she could set is long. 

You see, really, I will be okay.  If anything, it is just surprising how fast our inner beings latch onto that glimmer of hope... that possibility of engaging something that is so incredible, it gives us back a piece of ourselves that was lost.  Of course it is not the sole method to regain one's footing on a step climb, but there is something about it that allows us to identify with it, hope in it, and hold on tight.

Perhaps in the end, that's all one needs - that "something" that convinces us to hold on while we are pulled to shore from our storm... that "something" that gives us the hope we need to get out of bed, put our feet on the floor, and then proceed - one in front of the other. 

In essence, after a baseline intake assessment, it was deemed that the program is not quite the right fit AT THIS TIME.  However, two very articulate steps were outlined and once I accomplish those two steps (however big and daunting they seem now), then the invitation is there to fly down to NYC for a proper intake assessment with hopes of developing plans for the two week intensive. 

You can't build a mansion if you first don't clear the trees, brush, and pour a solid foundation.

Annnnd, rather than stewing on the fact that I was temporarily sent back to do a little more clearing work, I need to keep my sight focussed on the future, my heart tapped into that sense of hope, and my grasp held firmly to the one who will ultimately guide me through it all. That one day, whenever that day might come, I will find myself sitting on the front veranda of a beautiful mansion, in the most precious of company.