Self-Care vs. Schedules: It’ll Feel Better When It Quits Hurting

My mother and grandmother . . . and possibly her mother . . . would say, “It’ll feel better when it quits hurting.” Truer words were never spoken. Especially this week when self-care did battle with my schedule.

Wednesday

The energy flowed as I sat in the waiting area of the local Discount tire. The blank daily planner open on my lap smelled of new paper, and visions of all I would accomplish over the next few days invigorated me. I clicked my pen and sketched out my week. Even the bad news that all four wheels of my Charger were bent and needed replacing couldn’t dampen my excitement.

In my pursuit to be a successful blogger, I read advice from other successful bloggers. By Sophia Lee is one of the first that caught my eye. She wrote:

“My blog was a business. I was going to treat it and plan for it as a business which meant that I had to be VERY strategic with how I was scheduling my time. I was so headstrong about getting this blog to be successful because I knew it was one of the only careers that could make me money around my quickly changing college schedule and other jobs.”

By Sophia Lee

Like her, I knew that blogging is one of the only careers that could make me money around my quickly changing . . . mother schedule and ever-changing physical limitations of M.E. (myalgic encephalomyelitis). I never know when I’m going to crash, so I need more flexibility for self-care. If she can do it, so can I.

I scheduled three days’ worth of hour-by-hour, play-by-play success — Pinterest, Facebook, Blogposts — before they called my name that the car was ready. With my bill of $1072.46 in hand, I joyfully headed out the door, ready to work my plan.

Murphy’s Law  is Real

My first mistake was the planner. I should have stuck with my standard: writing my schedule in eyeliner pencil on my bathroom mirror. Jotting notes on the same notecard I write my shopping list would have worked, too. Grabbing a random notebook and writing a to-do list may have been acceptable. But once you’re under contract as a mother, getting organized with an actual planner attracts the attention of Murphy. His laws will lay waste to your best intentions. He’s a jerk. He gets on the line with Mother Nature, Jack Frost, the Red Cross, and the Grimm Brothers to plan an interception — if not a total highjack — of everything you plan.

He immediately screwed up the weather in the entire state of Arizona, making the planning of our March getaway difficult. There was no way I was having the third getastay in a row, so my husband and I pushed on. Plan getaway, CHECK!

Thursday

Our foster son’s toddler was visiting for Spring Break, and his slight cold and eczema escalated to urgent care status. “It’ll feel better when it quits hurting, buddy,” I said as we set off for the local facility. But they wouldn’t take his out-of-state insurance. The $150 cost was a no go. Thirty minutes later in the next town over, the recommended office was closed for Spring Break. (Really?) Thirty additional minutes and the next town east, we found an open urgent care that accepted his insurance. If you don’t live in rural America, this might seem strange. The cities and suburbia have urgent cares on every other corner, but we’re not so lucky in Taylor, Arizona. Luckily, we were third in line and got out of there with a prescription and list of OTC medications by lunchtime.

The little one needed lunch and a nap. The Terrible Two ruled the world at this point. Let’s just say that by the time every person had been cared for and every errand run, M.E. got the best of me. I collapsed in bed with only one item scratched from my planner: “Feed animals”. The planner, sprawled open on my desk, laughed at me. “Good try. It’ll feel better when it quits hurting.” There are times when self-care doesn’t feel quite as important as the schedule, but you don’t have a choice.

Friday

The next day, Mother Nature turned out to be a giant mother traitor. You’d think with her title, she’d be more nurturing. The cold, wind, and rain cocooned me in a dull ache that prompted a second-day crash. I read and mostly dozed until late afternoon when it was time to leave for our Friday date. Let me tell you, short of death, NOTHING interrupts our weekly date. Marriages need self-care, too. It’s a good thing we love movies because sitting in a dark room, holding still, with my honey’s hand in mine is the only thing I can do when I’m fatigued. At the end of the day, as I lay in bed, a dark gloom settled over me. Another day gone. NOTHING on the blogging list done. Failure. Again. (In spite of resting, self-care isn’t really self-care if you’re beating yourself up.)

Saturday

 

Waking up, I gave myself some grace. My mother’s voice rang in my ears for the third day in a row. “It will feel better when it quits hurting.” So I slept till noon. Self-care for the win! After thirty-five years of dealing with a chronic illness, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that pain subsides. It may not be the better everyone else feels, but you do what you can do and cut yourself some slack. Take care of yourself. Listen to your body. Really love yourself.

I Am

M.E. might steal my plans, but it can’t rob me of my self-worth. I am a writer. I am a great mom. I am a professional hide-n-go-seek player with my grandkids. I dratherB okay, so I’ll give myself the love I deserve and use a pencil in my planner instead of pen. Maybe a mechanical pencil this time, because I don’t have the energy to sharpen a pencil by hand. I may not be able to do it like others, but I can do it!

I’ve been sitting here in this chair too long. I need to prop myself on a pillow and finish my editing, links, and pictures from there. If you’re dealing with chronic illness, I love you and I understand. Put self-care ahead of the schedule. It’ll feel better when it quits hurting. Promise.