Today has been an average day for me, laundry, ironing, some sewing, working a little outdoors. While I was ironing early this afternoon my heart started racing, alternating with pounding. I always think I am probably going to have a heart attack when that happens (my father died of a heart attack at 42), which it rarely does, and I think that's probably normal (to think you're having a heart attack when your heart is pounding for no apparent reason). I fixed a nice glass of iced green tea and thought I would just sit and sew for a while and that the feeling would go away.
Faith starting her day -- late morning
It did not after a half hour or so, and so I decided I might as well do some laundry and move the sprinklers and continue with my day because if I'm going to have a heart attack I might as well get a little more work done. I was reminded of a part of Cranford (the book) where Miss Mattie starts burning letters that she has saved for years and years because she doesn't want others to go through them if she dies. Because I am currently listening to the book, and just listened to that part yesterday, I started thinking I should clean out the drawers in the bedroom (not that I have any great letters or anything great period) just in case I die and someone goes through my stuff and thinks either "Gosh, she was a slob" or "Gosh this is some real junk she saved."
(As an aside, I don't think I have ever read a book that was so very different from the "film" (mini-series). I have watched the mini-series several times, and I love it, but it's almost as though the screenwriters wrote the mini-series completely opposite from the book.)
The odd thing is, yesterday I went to the physical therapist (my first real visit after the assessment) and the therapist gave me an ultrasound treatment (heat) and then a deep tissue massage in the lumbar region of my back. She massaged an area about 12 inches by the width of my body, and it hurt like mad -- barely tolerable (and she didn't seem to be surprised by my complaints that it hurt, nor did she alter her method, so I am guessing it was supposed to hurt like mad). She pushed and pushed on the tight muscles, and then she pulled like as if she was stretching the muscles out -- I felt like taffy.
can you please just leave me alone?
Remarkably my back doesn't hurt too badly today, but I had a headache when I left her office yesterday, and it has persisted since (which isn't entirely unusual but it's usually related to the weather which is clear), and I have had urinary pain all day (TMI?) which is not entirely unusual for me, but then this heart thing and it makes me wonder if they are not all somehow related to the 20-minute intense massage on my back. Ever had a deep tissue massage?
Of course, they could all also be related to moving my second son out of the house and into an apartment in three days. Making lists and packing (yes, he should be doing it, but he works all day) and worrying, and washing, and worrying some more, is a little stressful. (I often wonder what I would do if I had a real job because I think my head would explode if I had to add the stress of a job to the stress of managing our home life). By the way, if you need a list for college you can try mine as a starting place.
Which brings me to the title of my blog post. Please, may I just be a hermit? I sometimes wonder if the anxiety I get sometimes (ok, a lot lately) isn't a little bit of agoraphobia, if one can have a little bit of such a thing. If I could just stay home and have all my people stay home (of course then they would just fight more), I sometimes think I would be stress-free, and feel better over all. Or, it may be, since the other scenario is really not possible, I need to be like the hermit saints and go off and find a cave and just live alone, and spend my days in prayer.
I said PLEASE!
I tell ya, it doesn't sound half bad except I am hopeless at making a fire from nothing. Could I be a hermit who gets deliveries of provisions?
I have a date with a girlfriend for dinner tonight, and I half thought about canceling so I wouldn't have a heart attack in public, but I think I just might need a night away from my most beloveds.
My husband, smirking at me. Don't let him fool you, that's not a smile, that's a "you are leaving to go out to dinner and I am on my own with these yayhoos" smirk. And there are only two of them home tonight.