Asking for Help

Last week I had a vile stomach flu attack that left me feeling so bad that I called my friend at 6:30 in the morning, fearful for my own well-being. Eleven years ago I was hospitalized with colitis, and this time I felt almost as ill.

I’ve lived on my own for some time now. My ex and I separated in January ’96 and divorced almost two years later. My sons lived mostly with me, then my younger one finally left for good some 16 months ago. It’s been just me and the dog since then. There have been celebratory periods of independence and personal strength as well as times of intense loneliness. But I always was able to “do” for myself. I took care of what needed to be taken care of. I grew very accustomed to not asking for help with anything, although there were times people did offer and I did accept. Other times, when I asked for help because I thought I should, and it was promised, for various reasons it didn’t come through, but still I managed. I could cope, even though sometimes it was very tough.

Last Thursday morning was different. I felt utterly weakened and unable to make appropriate decisions for my own health and safety. I had spent the night acutely ill (I don’t need to share the details) and by morning my mental health as well as physical health was compromised. It left me feeling very vulnerable and rather frightened. I literally didn’t know what to do. I realized that I had no alternative but to ask for help. Lying on the couch, barely able to move, I called my friend. She rode to the rescue. We agreed that I should call the doctor when his office opened, and he prescribed medication. She picked it up and brought it over, along with gallons of Gatorade. I sent a brief, miserable e-mail to my lover, who called me with care and concern as soon as he read it. Within 24 hours, I was on the mend, and I am now almost recovered.

This has been a learning experience. Sometimes I can’t cope by myself. Sometimes I have to concede that I need help. It’s hard. There are many childhood connotations for me – I was not used to getting help and support, so it still feels wrong to ask for or expect it. I’m working on it. There are now people in my life who give it very willingly, and I feel very lucky and blessed to have them, yet still it feels wrong to “impose” even on those who care about me. But I have to recognize that it’s ok to have needs and to ask for help in meeting them. After all, I am always very happy and willing to help others. Somehow it is much easier that way round. As ever, living a healthy and balanced life is a work in progress, and that is something else I have to accept. I guess we never stop learning. Which is good. Growth is good. And so is asking for and accepting help.

Updates

First and foremost - Barbaro is out of his cast and doing very well! I was happy to see that piece of news on the internet today!

As for me, I seem to be living life at one hundred miles an hour right now, and scarcely have a moment to breathe, let alone write, blog, read other blogs, etc. I have to do some better organizing of my time. But when will I have time to that?

I'm happy, though, if a trifle weary occasionally. M is often in town, and we go out in the evenings. What a concept - life after work! Hah! After spending so long focused almost solely on doing the best I can at work, I have now shifted a little, and it is still a little disorienting. Doing the best I can at work could easily take 24/7, so I am modifying and accommodating (two special education terms!), and trying to strike a reasonable balance between work and play. With some humdrum routine living-a-life type stuff squeezed in-between.

I turned 52 a couple of weeks ago, and am finding life getting better and better. It's almost as if I have paid my dues, so now it's time to reap the rewards - if that isn't mixing metaphors too clumsily. (Actually, I think it works.) I'm in the fifth year of my profession, and the learning curve has become a lot more gentle, so I can relax a tad in that respect. I just took and passed an exam that will allow me to practice privately - that gives me more options. My sons are growing up well and away from home, needing far less from me now, so I can begin to relax and look for things that please me. The Puritan in me produces a fair dollop of guilt when I do that, but the rank hedonist appears to be winning out right now! Somebody said to me recently that a good way to live is to approach life as if we had only six months to live. Sounds like a fair compromise. Some planning and caution is called for, but there is always the knowledge that there ain't much time left, so get the most you can out of what is offered. Works for me.

Will attempt to visit other blogs very soon - meanwhile, thanks for all the comments, my friends.