composeconceivecreate

How my hand looks during therapy…probably…I’ve never been brave enough to actually look.

My writs hurts right now and the only consolation is that when I say “It feels like someone is jabbing needles into it” and judgey people are all “don’t be so dramatic” I can be all “no, really, that’s the treatment”.  Then I get to feel superior for a few seconds while they stare blankly trying to decide if I’m crazy in the “run and hid now” way, or just in the “eccentric awkward laugh” kind of way.  Don’t judge,  potentially inappropriate jokes are all I have right now…almost everything I like to do involves an arm that doesn’t need to have needles driven into it once a week.

FYI, the older I get, the more I seem willing to go through pain to get rid of pain.  When I was younger if my doctor had suggested deep muscle acupuncture, to cure what ailed me, I would have:

• Screamed and run away; or,
• Punched the doctor in the throat. (Maybe both.)

But now, as a mature adult I somehow accept the logic that pain will get rid of pain…(Is that a hint of desperation I smell?)  It makes me wonder what I’ll be willing to go through ten or twenty years from now.

Me - Doctor, my toe hurts.  I think I have a hangnail.

Doctor – Ahhh I’ve seen it before, all we need to do is rub all your skin off with sandpaper and that foot pain will clear right up.

Me – Sandpaper?  Won’t that hurt?

Doctor – You may feel some pain, but that pain is really just a sign of healing.

Me – Well, ok….you were right about the acupuncture…

You think that conversation might be far fetched?  This is an actual one I had with physio:

Me – So, I liked the muscle relaxation I got after our last treatment.

Therapist – Good.

Me – But I had a question…I was in some pain for the rest of the week.

Therapist – Some pain is expected.

Me – It felt like someone had punched me in the neck…like a bruise…from a punch to the neck.

Therapist – For the whole week?

Me – Six days.  I was a little concerned I might have meningitis.

Therapist – That’s a valid concern…but it’s just an side effect of the treatment.

Me  – So, no meningitis?

Therapist – Probably not, but we’ll take it easy for this next treatment…it really should only hurt for a few days.

Me – Well, ok then.  As long as it’s not meningitis.

I’m not sure if my willingness to accept pain is some sort of sickness, or just a sign of maturity.  But if it is a sickness, I’m pretty sure there is some sort of painful treatment to cure me.  But hey, silver lining is I probably don’t have meningitis…ok maybe that is more of a bronze lining, or like a “sylver” (registered trademark) lining.

PS. My singing instructor today said I could totally wail. I’m pretty sure that’s a compliment.

PPS.  I just looked it up…totally a compliment.

Writing Exercise:

Life gives us a few gifts as we get older.  We get the gift of clarity (decisions were so confusing when I was a teenager, now I can confidently put down my menu, look up at the waitress and say “ranch please” without any second thoughts).  We also get the gift of patience (I hardly ever stamp my foot and cry when waiting in a long line anymore).  However, it also take a few things away (I sat on the floor for an hour the other day and when I got up everything between my left butt cheek and my left knee had gone to sleep).

Make a list of things you have gained with age.  (Wisdom, independence, a better golf handicap…whatever it is you value.)  Now make a list of the things you miss from your youth.  Than ask yourself…would I trade?  Spend a few minutes free writing about why or why not.  If you have trouble getting started, pretend the trade is non-optional (you must trade two things) and write about the consequences. Happy writing.

They turned on the AC at work today. Normally I would be thrilled by this added evidence that Spring is here.  Normally I would hear the hum of the AC and think, tulips, yay!  But, this isn’t a normal day, (Are any of my days normal?) because I’m fairly sure the building’s HVAC system is trying to kill me.

The beautiful hum of the AC triggered, one would assume, by the presence of the glowing ball of gas in the sky, seems to only have one “on” setting; ice cave.  But I was so happy to hear the AC trigger that at first I didn’t notice the nefarious plot to take me out.  Then my skin started to hurt.  “Must be dryness from that horrible winter.” Then my fingers turned red.  “Am I allergic to my hand cream?”  Then a headache and the shivers, clumsy typing fingers and a deep desire to curl up in the corner and sleep.

Did you catch all that?  Shivers, red skin, clumsiness, aches and drowsiness…all symptoms of hypothermia (I checked with the Google.).  Hypothermia is the perfect weapon of an air conditioning system.  I’m only slurred speech and slow breathing away from a textbook case.  And I’m not sure I don’t have those too because it’s totally hard to not look like a crazy person (or a secret drunk) when asking your cubicle neighbour if you’re slurring your speech. So for all I know I’m just one symptom away.  (Ok, so the clumsiness may just be a hold-over from my regular life, and the headache may be attributed to my questionable decision to wear a tight ponytail today, but I’m still convinced.)

Not proof of murderous intent you say?  Well, then why is the ice cave phenomenon restricted to twenty feet either side of my desk?  (The hallway is possibly toasty by comparison.)  I’m actually a bit sorry that colleagues on either side of me are suffering my fate, punished by proximity to me and whatever I’ve done to anger the ventilation system.  Maybe I could make some sort of HVAC restitution before it’s too late.

NB.  Do you think the Health and Safety person would put me on report for throwing a chair through a window?

Writing Exercise:  Mapping It Out

I love the idea of mind mapping, but the other day I read a suggestion that writers make a map of their neighbourhood as inspiration.  I loved the idea of drawing a map of the places you’ve lived (or are currently living), but I wanted to take it a step farther.  I decided to make an experience map.  (Don’t worry no actual drawing or mapping skills will be required, just stick figures and your memory.)

Get a large blank piece of paper and coloured pencils.  Choose a place that has been important in your life (your childhood home), your high school, the mall you ran around as a teen, then make that the centre of your universe, or in the case the centre of your map.  Draw a picture to represent the location for yourself.  (Remember this is an inspiration exercise not art, so don’t spend more than a few seconds on each picture element.)

Now do a quick word association, what does that place make you think of, what experience would you label your home location with?  Label your centre, then move out in circles of experience from your home.  The doghouse could be “hiding from brother”.  The driveway could be “skinned knee”.  The tree out back could be “first kiss”.  The idea is to remember the locations for their history not their physical appearance.  Spend five minutes mapping out the location, and when you’re done put pen to paper and spend fifteen minutes describing one or two of experiences.  Why did the experience happen there?  What was the location like for you?  Remember the location is the story, so bring your reader into your world.  Happy writing.

NB. Here’s my example (well, half my example, the scanner isn’t cooperating). Map