April's CR Diary

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June 23, 2009

A Different Sense of Danger

It is probably a good thing that my partner is a life-extensionist, because as people go, I am one of the most paranoid about the safety of my loved ones. I like the fact that I know MR is tucked away in the house most of the time, happily plugging away on his computer doing his research and writing, snuggled up with PubMed and a nice cup of organic green tea.

My fear for others' safety is not completely unrealistic... as the terrible train crash yesterday reminded us, health and safety are not to be taken for granted. And I have been known to hang out with a rather dangerous crowd. Lately I've spent some time hanging out with a guy who has 11 years of training in martial arts, and I can feel him constantly scanning the environment for danger. This makes me feel safe, but I do find myself wondering at times if he's wearing his seat belt when driving to work. My friend Davy Arizona, whom I used to refer to Asparagus-Phobe before he became a close enough friend to merit a name that is about more than just his fear of a certain vegetable, is a great driver... we rode together to the hospital on a very dangerous road for six months, and on many occasions he saved us from crazy other drivers by knowing how to drive with a heightened awareness of what the others were doing, and sometimes even swerving a bit when putting on the brakes to signal to drivers behind him that they should stop quick. He's another Jersey boy, and has been in enough fights to know how to look out for danger, and he's another person with whom I feel incredibly safe. I remember once when I mentioned my martial artist friend to him, he said, "You know, I know that kind of guy could beat the crap out of me. But when I see a guy like that at a bar, I think to myself, 'I could hit him over the head with that chair while he's talking to her.'" Just goes to show, none of us are immune from danger. It's around us all the time, and I think it's a balancing act to live consciously and carefully without become paralyzed by fear to the point where one's quality of life is compromised.

I've always been a pretty adventurous person. I went off to boarding school for high school at fourteen. It wasn't that many years ago that I flew off to Chicago at a moment's notice to spend a weekend with a guy I had just met... at the Republican National Convention protests! I spent weeks picking up protesters from jail and working on their legal defense, housing anarchist kids and feeding them vegan stews while they waited to see if they would go to jail for the simple exercise of their American rights to free speech.

I've been much more emotionally adventurous than physically adventurous. I won't ski (high school roommate had a terrible ski accident, and I hate the cold anyhow. Why would anyone want to volunteer to be cold and wet? Strikes me as just as bad as those poor rats with their feet in cold water experiments, but that's just me) but I have a very high stress, high emotional investment job, and having two elections in two weeks of each other feels a lot like being in two car accidents back to back. Being back in Scranton (yes, I am! All that clicking my heels and saying "There's no place like Scranton" worked!) reminds me of the high risk that workers take when they choose to organize a union, to stand up for themselves, their families, a decent standard of living, and in the case of my nurses and techs, their patients. No matter how many years I do this work (yikes we are coming up on fourteen!) I never cease to be in awe of the courage of my nurses.

I've been a pretty high risk person in matters of the heart as well. Most of you were around for the tension filled, misunderstanding-riddled beginning of my relationship with MR. The email where I put my cards on the table, that he didn't read for a week, while I sat around feeling alternately stupid and miserable. The whrilwind weekend in Calgary, when he called me on Tuesday to tell me he felt similarly, and I hopped on a plane on Friday morning. He was quite amazed by that. I've never understood why. I mean, he knew about air travel! Girl likes boy, boy is in Calgary, girl gets on plane. Distance is a logistical problem, and as my friend Francis and I always say, logistical problems are easily solved. Organizers are not deterred by logistical problems.

You can't get to 34 without getting your heart broken a couple of times, but I find these days that I form really healthy relationships. I was peering out over the psychic lines with my closest friends the other day, and noticed that I have the most uncomplicated, non-dramatic relationships I've ever had. Some friendships have faded out a bit, but I know that we'll always be there for each other, even if we don't always hang out or talk as much as we used to. And I've forged some new relationships in the last six months that seem to be extraordinarily good for me. I find myself saying, "I really just want you to be happy," and meaning it. And I've been able to accept love, care, and the occasional good (metaphorical) kick in the head from close friends who really do have my best interest at heart.

These days, campaigns over and new ones beginning, amazing new friendships in full bloom, and summer beginning (we all know how I am a summer person!) I find that I value life and health more than ever. It's been oddly easy to slip back into my healthy habits. The first couple of days post-campaign I didn't do well, but come Sunday I was back to my quotidian diet, and I don't feel all that hungry now. This morning I had my cottage cheese and flax oil, and didn't eat again until after 7 when I was a) done with my meetings b) done with fighting with my computer to figure out where the wireless internet switch was. Then I had a salad with grilled chicken and kalamata olives. Took my supplements, took a bath, chatted with a friend on the phone, went to bed. It's nice to be away from the conference room, the conference room food, the stress of the campaign. By the end of the campaign we all look and feel like the walking dead, and post-campaign is usually very rough, but I think this time it will be easier. I am very old in organizer years, and have mostly learned how to deal with it.

My old friend Francis, who has organized as long as I have, says that the best way to deal with post-campaign stress syndrome is to get into the physical. Exercise like a maniac. I am taking his advice. Tomorrow morning I am taking hot yoga in Scranton. Steamtown Yoga -- isn't that cute??? On July 7 I have a lesson scheduled with my martial artist friend's teacher... here's the website, I don't want to screw up the spelling. I've always wanted to try martial arts, but you know that's not the kind of thing girls did when I was growing up, and I doubt that I'd have the confidence to even take a lesson if it weren't for more than a year of yoga practice. I am excited.

But back to the topic of safety. I worry a lot when I think MR is in an acutely dangerous situation, but he worries when he sees me doing things that will hurt my health years down the road. I used to find this annoying, but I understand more now. He wants to be with me forever, or at least as long as possible, and when he sees me engaging in behaviors that will shorten my life, he gets really upset, the same way I would feel if he drove the car without a seat belt. My sense of danger is acute and focused on the present, but his is more long term. He can imagine a future in which we are together fifty years from now and healthy, and he can imagine a future where I am dead due to some mostly preventable disease.

The last six months have been incredibly stressful, but like Persephone returning from the Underworld, I feel like I am coming back to life, and with more enthusiasm for life than ever. It seems so much easier to jump back into healthy habits now, and I've had just enough of those moments when life is so unbearably sweet that it feels like preserving. Being back in Scranton reminds me of why I do my work, and how much I love it. And that in turn reminds me of why I don't want to trade laziness and going along with the crowd for life and health. I will never be the kind of CR practitioner who never goes out. I'll go out and drink beer and eat all kinds of fun foods... to me, being able to go out with friends and eat wild boar tacos is part of having a good quality of life... but most days, I'll eat eggwhites and cottage cheese and flax oil and veggies. I was an easy breezy fairly simple CR practitioner for years, and though the last year has been hard, I'm finding it easy to pick up again.

My sense of danger may be heightened by the recent tragedies in our world, by some tragedies I've been close to. Or perhaps it's that my love of life is just more apparent to me right now as I have gotten to spend time with people I love, and I'm now back in one of my favorite towns on earth. There's nothing selfish about eating less to live longer... I am always perplexed by those who think there is. My consumption of an eggwhite omlette for breakfast hinders none other in doing their will.

It's a brand new day, and I'm off to take hot yoga, do a lot of work, meet with some new nurses, and (YAY!) see one of my favorite nurse leaders of all time at our favorite lunch place! A salad awaits me... and the rest of my life!

Posted by april at June 23, 2009 1:29 AM

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Posted by: K at June 25, 2009 5:55 AM

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