Thursday, July 7, 2011

Waterfall

On the way out of the exam room, once again catheter free, the nurse advised me to relax. The removal had gone relatively smoothly. She had been able to push fluid through the urethra. The ultra-sound proved I had emptied my bladder once; I could probably do it again. Even as extensive as my one-chance surgery had been, they have rarely seen a setback like I had suffered. They were confident that a week later, all would be fine.


To be sure, she wanted me to stick around the hospital for a while and see how things flowed.

Fear played its cruel hovering game, however, and bottle after bottle of water in the cafeteria was not making me feel any better. Free of the catheter for 48 hours last week, my elation from that time saved me from despair in the days since. I had pushed hard to pee so little and patiently survived the pain, sure that muscles just needed practice, but the re-insertion of the catheter after all that was too frightening a possibility that the surgery had ultimately failed. I could not stay very relaxed in this moment of test.

Amazingly, checking email, a daily offering had arrived for this day entitled “Go with the Flow”, a little reminder that resistance to the movement impedes our lives and we must accept whatever comes. The delightfully synchronistic message brought a great smile, but could not alleviate my concern. Even with the Universe and my body seemingly in such conjunction, I was hyper aware of every muscle inflection, completely focused unpleasurably on the minute urges and fluctuations inside my genitals.

A stranger at the urinal at last, facing the tiled wall, but still internally agonizing, I meditated on the nurse’s words and took long, deep, sighing breaths, urged to relax in the fateful moment that had finally arrived. Nothing came but a force of pain, so I went deeper, closing my eyes and let muscles fill with the air and hold poised with emptiness. A burning from deep within expanded, but still nothing came out.

My body urged to push, like a mother needing her baby out, and my toes curled with the effort to start. My jaws locked, but my breath went deeper still to uncurl toes and fingers. My breath steadied, my consciousness envisioned forces swelling and rising, pulsing outwards with the breath. Every cell unclenched, flowing with energy of expansion, an opening of soul.

At last, I could feel something release and even as a sharp wince surged, drops came forth and I felt a palpable relief. My grin that spread from ear to ear was much larger, but the message in the little puddle of fluid was even more clear that I would be well again.

On the 4 hour ride home, climbing out of the car at each stop confirmed the amazing lightness of being I felt again to have no tube nor tail bound to my leg. The irritating straps of latex, Velcro and plastic had vanished, this time never to return. I could dance across the parking lot far more easily than others who were burdened under their daily loads of concerns. Alone and in the mood to celebrate, my body burst with song and my eyes glistened with freedom brighter than fire works.

And as I get back into my own healthy life, trying to force a job out of a thousand internet possibilities, I have to take the nurse’s words even more to heart and try to relax. I suffered a business for far too many years that was always dangling on the edge of disaster because I was pushing too hard, trying to get too much out of something that could only produce so much. Last week the catheter had to go back in because I was pushing so hard again, straining to get it out instead of just allowing the natural urge to release, letting go and letting flow.

Some new work will come along that will be much more suited to who I am today and what I want out of life, the perfect mix of effort and abundance and something I love to do.

We are built to function well, our bodies, hearts and minds. Fear makes us push too hard, swing too soon, eat too fast. Faith is available to give us something to hold when troubles seem too overwhelming, bleeding out of us like a catheter that’s been in too long. We just need to focus on the breath in moments of fear, shake off the distrust and return to the most basic of functions. and we will always find our way, the love will surely flow.
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1 comment:

Beth said...

Go with the flow and breathe and relax in the fear and trust all will be well with love Nice to hear this Kip :)