Archive for the 'momentum' Category

Sep 16 2011

Another day, another doctor appointment

They really are weekly, during these early days of crisis and post-crisis and establishing baselines and new routines and mapping out how the rest of, well, my life will go, really.  It won’t always be this frequent, but it seems like it right now sometimes.

This week I saw the surgeon who performed my mastectomies, considered by many to be the top surgeon in the hospital, (how cool is that?) which probably explains why he gets to wear cowboy boots to work and play country music during operations, according to the nurses.  That appointment I already talked about in a previous post, so you’re more caught up than I thought, Faithful Reader.  I’m getting back into this blogging thing better than even I knew, heh — I’m repeating myself.  Tuesday was a long day; in addition to the at-home nurse visit provided by Medicaid, I had a several hours-long doctor visit with Dr. Rubin de Celis.  We have more CT scans scheduled for next week; according to him, these will be the truely true baseline scans.  The previous ones were to see where we were at, once all the chemo and radiation had been done, which showed us the four liver spots and the remaining breast tumor.  The breast tumor is gone with the surgery; there were two active lymph nodes out of the five removed on the right side.

According to de Celis, this doesn’t change anything in our plans so far, as they also took the inactive ones surrounding the active nodes to get clean margins.  It does mean that there could be cancer cells flowing somewhere in my body, waiting to attach somewhere and start growing again.  It also, since those active nodes were surrounded by dead cells, could mean that they were remnants of some of the largest liver tumors still in the process of dying off from the aggressive chemotherapy regimen I was on.

So it’ll be two months since the last chemo treatment when we do these scans next week, and that’s long enough to know what lingering effect, if any, the chemo had on those liver spots.  If they’ve stayed the same, or gotten smaller, we’re happy; that’s what we want to have happen.  I’ll get put on tamoxifen, an anti-estrogen medication, next week as well, and that is supposed to do the job of keeping those spots stable or shrink them, like we want to have happen.  I’ll get scans every two months while staying on this drug essentially for life, given the aggressiveness of my cancer.  (We’ll of course be watching the other previously affected body parts to make sure no new cancer springs up in addition to watching those four spots.)  Stay the same or get smaller (or go away), we stay happy. The only long term side effect to worry about with tamoxifen is leg blood clots, so as long as I stay active, get back with PT and exercise as I’m able to do, and keep my body otherwise healthy, I shouldn’t have to worry about clots.  As long as the tamoxifen works and all the radiation and chemo worked as it should’ve, then I stay in a remission-like state and live my life and do ambitious and wonderful things as I plan and live with my family and enjoy my friends for the all the years to come that we all expect to get when we plan out our lives in blissful ignoring of death’s shadow.

We’ll also stay on the Aridia, as I’ve mentioned before, to help repair the osteoporotic-like damage to my bones that happened with the metastatic cancer.  I just got my monthly infusion on Tuesday; the ironic side-effect of Aridia is bone pain, and I suppose it’s a good sign of sorts that my other systemic pain has gone down enough to be able to feel the bone pain specifically this time around.  It is not a fun barrel of monkeys; it is a lot of mostly back pain, mostly where the tumors were, and paranoia-inducing as a result.  I’m also back to sleeping just on my back after having halfway re-trained myself to side-sleep, thanks to the mastectomy surgeries, but of course that will also eventually heal up again.

My dad and step-mom are visiting this weekend.  It’s been wonderful having family visit so regularly and be so supportive.  I wish they lived closer so I could have even more of that.  We’ve also got a really great community here in Austin, it’s been great to see my husband taken care of with near-weekly gaming and dancing with his friends to relieve some of his stress, as he adjusts to a high-stress-level new job doing a bunch of things he’s been wanting to do for years and getting paid (close to) what he’s worth as well to do it.  We don’t get the time together that we’d like, but that like everything else will repair itself over time as things heal on all the different fronts there are to heal.  It makes it challenging to find time for me to get back into my part of nurturing all the different aspects of family care on the home front, and for being a cancer-and-surgery-recovering currently disabled person, I think I’m doing darn well.  Having the live-in help helps, quite a bit.  We’ve had a couple of hiccups with her car having troubles but it sounds like we’ve finally got a handle on fixing that up so it won’t keep being a problem, which is a relief.  I still manage a date night nearly every week with the husband, even if it’s just spending time together watching a movie or series and quietly enjoying each other’s company.  I help The Teen with his homework and help manage the onslaught of his Teen Angst, and can feed and even sleep with Super-Baby with a bit of positioning assistance.

***

I still don’t feel like I have enough time to cry.  To hold my daughter (or my son).  To sleep.  To write.  To spend time with husband or friends.  Time seems to be one of the commodities that slips through the fingers like sand as one convalesces.  I found out that one of my friends lost everything in the Bastrop fires, and yet again I’m invalid enough not to be able to go help out the way I want to (though at least this time I can offer a shed to rummage through for usable stuff, and a bit of kid-care by way of volunteering our helper lady, so better than nothing).  I’m so tired, and there’s so much to do, and I’m doing so much, and the task list just gets longer each day.

I’m supposed to have a scale, which I’ve never owned, to track daily fluid weight, as we wean me off the steroids I’ve been on for the past several months.  I’m supposed to start wearing lymphedema sleeves again.  These are super-expensive, I’ll have to check to see if Medicaid covers those, though I’m sure they’re the ugly beige type if they do.  I’ll put up a wishlist for some more stylish ones sometime soon, in case anyone feels the urge to give a good and useful gift.  (I have several gorgeous gifted head-scarves I enjoy wearing when hubby and I go out or I feel like dressing up.)

It feels like something new wants to be written but nothing has shown up yet.  So I will continue to slowly send out old stories (did I mention I had done that, on a couple?), slowly clear the desk, and perhaps as I do so the new things will begin appearing.  If I am to live this life to the fullest it is meant to be, then there must be more stories, new stories, moving and delightful and entertaining stories from me to you.

And so there shall be.  So send good thoughts and prayers if that’s your thing (I’m a non-denominational well-wisher accepter), encouragement and excitement for more stories, rub my bald head for health if you see me (my son is good at keeping this up), send love…and go out and live your lives fully, fiercely, and beautifully, so that daily we all spit in the face of death.

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Sep 12 2011

Polling readers: creative fun

I have my own ideas I’m pondering, but I’d like to hear your thoughts as well.  What more would you like to see on this blog and website?  I’m loving the things I’m finding like the 5 Minute Flash Fiction contest by Leah Petersen, or when writers give away advance copies of their new releases in mini-contests, or blogathons, or all sorts of creative and/or collaborative projects or one-offs that you can trip over all across the ‘net.

So here we already have my talks in random order about my cancer journey, perhaps (likely) to be more organized later, and weekend links from the interesting things I find during my own internet journeys, but tell me, oh Fearless Readers, what else would you like to see here, semi-regularly or randomly?  Or on my Twitter account, for example?  I keep thinking there’s something on the tip of my brain I could do with that but so far it still hasn’t gelled into useful creative output.  More free fiction, assuming my creative well keeps filling?   I’m not reading much in the way of books lately, but discussions on various shows I’m watching from a writer perspective?  What appeals to you from other writer blogs that you think would represent well here?

Since I’m doing my own ponderings along these lines I can’t promise delivery upon request, but on the other side, you can’t get what you don’t ask for, either.  Anyone?  Bueller?  I’m definitely interested in collaborative and cross-genre, or even cross-art projects, and still have a good one in the working stages coming to you soon from the first round of the cancer experience, once we work out some final visual details and I can move forward onto other ambitious and provocative projects.  After all, though none of us know how long we have here to get done our most ambitious and beautiful dreams, I’ve just received some more pointed reminders than most.  And I have some great friends, loved ones, and children to leave legacy for…

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Aug 19 2011

Thoughts on Doing Too Much

There’s several aspects to the phrase “doing too much”, not all of them bad. I’ll explore some of my thoughts on this here, but do feel free to add your own perspective in the comments.

Sometimes you gotta.

We’ve discussed that many a time here in the blog, so I won’t go into it again this soon, but when a thing must be done, and you’re the one around to do it, well…

And then there’s defining “too much”, which is a phrase whose definition really changes daily, when you think about it.  Stamina, willpower, energy, and more aren’t constants, they’re variables; and you’re unwise to treat them differently.

Sometimes I think a large part of life lessons revolve around learning our limits.  What do “limits” mean on that daily changing basis; when to push them and when to accept them; when to keep them and when to free yourself from them however you can.

There’s not much out there like facing terminal life conditions to make oneself face up to learning these lessons.  Too many of us get an easy pass to skirt around the issue.  I’m not saying life still isn’t hard, for most of us, much of the time.  But lessons like how to say “no this is too much for me right now” or “I need help with this, I can not do it on my own” are ones I’ve noticed many of us get to avoid facing head on.

When we finally must ask these things, reach out for this help, it often comes with a whole heap of guilt — and not always internal, either.  Asking for help is often scary, for those doing the asking and those receiving the request.  And if your requests for help have to change from “hey, I could use a little help on finishing this task,” to “help me clean up the bedsheets I just wet myself on”, your perspective becomes much harder to maintain.

But this is supposed to be about doing too much, isn’t it?

Anyone who knows me knows that I run at the equivalent of 110% nearly every moment.  Perhaps a slight exaggeration, but only a bit; I throw my full self into whatever I do, try to be as fully present in each moment as possible, whether it’s building and reorganizing a first aid kit (a long-overdue task that’s been on the to-do list for months that was completed today), feeding a 4-month-old a 6-month-old-sized helping of rice cereal and enjoying watching her race through it, or passing out over a keyboard as I atttempt to reorganize and make sense of a medication regimen that will keep me as pain-free and functional as possible while giving myself more space between constantly taking medications.  (All tasks done today, not counting the occupational therapist appointment, the physical therapist appointment, the open house meet-n-greet for The Teen’s school, or the several hours’ visit and chat about business and other sundry topics with a friend using our kitchen to make and share tasty banana bread.)

Now mind you, the only out-of-house activity of all of those was the school open house, but that’s still more than some people I know do in a week, much less a day, much less three weeks out from a two-month hospital stay.  And sure, I’m exhausted and I hurt (but I always hurt these days, and have been told to expect that I may always have some chronic pain issues from the damage I took to bones and nerves from this metastasis).  When one has experienced enough pain to completely incapacitate, it’s an effort to readjust one’s pain scale to know when to pay attention and slow down.  That’s a mental adjustment I do work on, daily.  Ha, but then again, that’s another task as well, isn’t it?

Tomorrow I’ll leave the house again; this time for an informal support group luncheon.  (And very much hopefully picking up the rest of my medications, or it will be a much more painful weekend than I’ve had for a while.)  I’ve never been to a support group, even an informal one, so it’s a new experience.  The rest of the day is scheduled around “resting”; visiting with my mother, discussing salary issues with the live-in help, hopefully a household board game in the evening for some fun.

And yet there are still items on the to-do list that have sat there, some for months (amazing how much cancer interrupts life flow).  This blog post has been written on all week, and isn’t the one most of you are waiting to read (the scans were overall good, and details will be forthcoming, I promise).  My physical therapist doesn’t understand why I can’t find time to do my PT exercises twice each day, and she’s unfortunately right in that if I did so, my endurance would increase accordingly and I could get more done of what I want or need to get done.

I think that you’ve done “too much” when your body shuts you down against your will.  If I want to finish this post, but I wake up 5 hours from now with dffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff across a paragraph’s worth of screen, it’s quite likely I did more than I “should have”.  But that’s an “after the fact” tell, not a signal to stop before I get to that point.  And I do agree that sleep should get its own fair 110% along with the rest of daily activities, though that’s a lesson it’s taken a stubborn while to accept and learn.

It’s made harder by the fact that other people can’t tell you what your “too much” is.  When I say I need to write more, and someone responds that I really need to focus on visualizing a healthy self and resting and taking care of me before “worrying” about more writing, on one level they’re right (especially their own level, of what they can imagine they’d need to do under similar circumstances — may none of you ever have those).  But when a blog post or fiction snippet I finish at four in the morning rejuvenates my soul, gives peace to my mind, allows me to actually, deeply, rest for three solid hours, it becomes harder to believe that taking the time to write was “too much”.  And you can’t always know ahead of time that I “should have” made that choice instead of taking my ambien and trying for just the resting part.

So, conclusion:  No easy answers on what “too much” is, when to know when you’ve found it, or how to avoid it.  But I’d adore for this to become a discussion in its own right and hear about your own experiences or attempts to control this urge.  If you have any, share your thoughts here.

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Jan 14 2011

Quickie Question: writing and routine

I have a couple of longer Cancer Chronicles posts brewing, but no brain for longer things this week. So I will throw out a quick question instead, for any writers reading as well as anyone else who regularly uses established routines to create art or get larger projects done.

What are the ways that you continue to create/work on projects when life inevitably brings disruption to those normal routines? How do you (personally) quickly get back on the wagon if those disruptions do interrupt your work?

I recognize that part of my problem is working with a bit less than a healthy person’s energy levels while trying to do as much or more than said person’s average workload. So I’m not castigating myself for struggling with juggling. However, writing regularly seems to be the thing that falls off first when major routine disruptions (like a month of travel and holiday busy-ness) happen, and that’s less ideal. My ideas for solving this are mostly nebulous (other than what I’m already trying of setting small daily/weekly goals and working up from there), and I’d like to hear how other people manage such things (or don’t).

(Also also note: I’m griping about lack of momentum during a week where I finished a novel chapter, revised a story and sent it to the writer’s group, and wrote this post. So we aren’t talking NO progress here, just not what I’d feel more satisfied and less stressed about getting done.)

Looking forward to your comments!

4 responses so far

Nov 22 2010

Process Analysis Progress

I think I’ve mentioned that I’ve been doing some deep internal analysis of writing process, which connects to everything else. As I get more of my baseline health back, and as my other life commitments aren’t dwindling anytime soon (family care, house care, self care, etc), I find a greater and greater need to efficiently manage my time for maximum productivity throughout my life.

I didn’t have to worry about this balancing act nearly as much, before. I was one of those people who regularly seemed to have enough accessible energy for two people. (Note: It’s possible I still do have near that level of reserve, but can’t as easily tell because so much more energy is tied up in recovery/body maintenance these days.) I would get tired, sure, but I very rarely was unable to fit all of what I wished to accomplish into a day, in terms of the energy spent on tasks (timing is a different story).

This was one of the harder things to adjust to, before and after cancer surgery. I had a lot of internal resistance, and resentment, and stubbornness bordering on denial, especially in the early months. I loved being Wonder Woman. I never really took it for granted, as I have family members and friends with chronic health issues that need careful energy management, but I was quite glad not to need such adjustments for myself. Until I did need them — then I was quite glad I’ve always been a person who pays attention to things; while learning a new level of energy management was frustrating, I also had gathered quite a few tips and information on how to go about obtaining that knowledge while observing others close to me. My stepmother in particular is fabulous about knowing how and where to spend her daily energy, and even when to push her limits and pay for it later vs. when to rest and cancel or reschedule something.

After surgery, managing my daily energy was mandatory if I wanted to both heal and get anything else done at all. And since life doesn’t pause for death or near-death, there was certainly a good amount that needed doing, that I could possibly do, and wanted to do. And still at first my mind tried to negotiate, make end-runs around necessity, push just a little harder than was wise. Seeing those closest to me dealing with their own brown-outs from the crisis didn’t help that urge subside. I spent most of my time in the first few months post-tumor doing nearly as much of the sitting and resting as I was doing before surgery. Somewhere in there, I made a very important internal shift in thinking, which is complicated in nuance to describe but I shall try.

Without giving up my belief that I can eventually have most of my “old self” back (helpful psychologically at this point in recovery), I started to accept the realities of the now, where now there were certain things I needed to track or do or not do daily in order to keep healing and keep doing more in general. For example, through the past several months and continuing currently, I must take a daily nap for maximum energy availability. Up until the past six weeks or so, I didn’t even have much choice over when that nap happened. It’s yet another sign of healing progress for me to recently regain some measure of control over when my nap happens, and that change has freed up several schedule pieces to be a bit more flexible about what activity happens when.

Right after surgery I was up for no more than sitting in a chair, my main activity for the previous year. By the end of the second month afterward I was doing light house duties (no lifting), and writing sporadically, and doing moderately all right at family care. By the end of the fourth month, I was functioning for most of a day (with lots of rest) but flailing on balancing all the different desires and responsibilities of daily life. By six months out, I was still nap-dependent (and sinus ick gave me the equivalent of a couple steps back in progression of health for another 6 weeks or so) but managing to get more than half of my daily tasks and commitments to some level of completion or to the next rest point. However, my writing consistency was still far more erratic than I wanted it to be, most often conflicting with needed nap-time.

Now, eight months out from surgery, my stamina is still the slowest to come back online, but I’ve gained nap timing flexibility if not yet nap exemption. I’ve learned how to fit writing in daily — at least theoretically. The next post will focus more specifically on the writing-process progress over the last several months. I’m still not getting done everything I want to in a day, but who of us really does?

Thankfully, I don’t yet feel as if I’ve reached my recovery limits. I also know I will reach them eventually, and that the post-cancer healed me will very likely not have the same energy capabilities of pre-cancer me. Some days, I still push against that knowledge. Other days, my interminable positive attitude is determined to find ways to get as much back as I can — but much more healthily than before.

The biggest change in this area is that I no longer have a significant urge to push my body past its current limits, the way I sometimes did previously. It’s so much easier to give myself basic needed self-care that I have to remember my own perspective shift when listening to others who are still struggling with this learning. I’d love to find ways to communicate in a way for others to viscerally understand why this is so important to monitor and take care of, without them having to go the near-death experience or life-crisis route to learn that.

You will die with things left undone. You can’t escape that reality. To me, therefore, it makes more sense to focus your efforts on doing the things you genuinely want in your life, managing or outsourcing as much of the life-maintenance stuff as you can, and letting go most of the stress over the rest. Post-cancer, every goal, every task, and everyone currently in my life are deeply wanted, and worth spending my daily energy on. That doesn’t feel like a priority likely to change. How do you manifest this in your own life?

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Nov 11 2010

A self-congratulatory moment

So far this year I have managed to write eight short stories and send off stories to 30 different markets. My most productive year to date, and that’s not counting the ongoing Callie blog project or the novel work. And there’s still a month or so left to do more!

While that might sound reasonably impressive, the cool points shoot way up when you add in the fact that all of the short stories and story submissions mentioned above happened after almost dying at the end of March this year.

I’m so totally working on correlating Jay Lake’s theory of psychotic persistence as the key to writer (or any) success… now some story acceptances would round out all that hard work nicely, hehe.

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Nov 05 2010

Writing update

Published by Reesa under Writing, blwio, callie, momentum, nanorebel

As I might have already mentioned, I’m bending my traditional dislike of NaNoWriMo enough this year to participate, after a fashion. Instead of a new project, I’m using it as a goad to spur more writing on the long-overdue-to-be-DONE-already novel. I’m also allowing words on the Callie project or the Amazon short story to count. So far I’ve made wordcount, this week so far by an about equal split between novel writing and Callie stuff (had to go retro-engineer a plot outline of sorts for the Callie entries so far, or I was in danger of missing earlier-laid threads and creating more inconsistencies than I’d like). There will also be a new Callie post, but I’ll put it up Monday, as I’ve found that if I put them up going into the weekend then vastly fewer people read and respond to it. I am hoping this weekend to finally bull through a draft of the short story, which should wrap up my words for the first week nicely. Then there’s no more obstacles between me and noveling the rest of the month away!

How go your creative projects, Fearless Readers?

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Oct 12 2010

Seeking Your Bliss (and Sometimes, Finding It)

There’s a large amount of screwed up social programming floating around out there, and few people escape its tangles entirely no matter how enlightened you attempt to be.  A good upbringing helps, and a strong self of self does as well, but you can’t avoid every message that gets repeated at you from the surrounding world.  The best you can do is learn to analyze your own behavior to identify when certain thinking patterns have been heavily influenced from outside sources.  Even then, that doesn’t mean you automatically jettison it; quite a few social structures exist because they really do make getting along with your fellow monkeys easier.

One area I’ve managed to avoid (for the most part) myself, is heavy neurosis surrounding what I do for a living.  All of my blended family of origin has a strong and principled work ethic, so I was certainly influenced by that while growing up.  What I remember more, though, is the sacrifice they and so many of my parent’s generation made:  several of my parents ended up in middle-level corporate-style jobs because that was the easiest way to stability for a family, not because they were passionate about what they did.  (At least one was doing what they liked by the time I knew them and that was a good perspective to see.)  I don’t remember them complaining about that choice, and as the years progressed I got to see them successfully change where they started from into something they DID like more, through excellent work and additional education.  But from my child mind’s perspective, one of the largest messages I took away from observing this is that I absolutely did not want to stay long in any job where I wasn’t being challenged, or didn’t care about what I was doing.  Thankfully, I also had the sort of family where making my own way was encouraged, even though my early career goals were certainly an attempt to balance doing my own thing with the concept of job security (like choosing veterinary science over acting).

My first job was a crap McD job to learn what the working thing was all about, and I still managed to learn how to do every non-management job including the grill.  My next job I decided to do something closer to what I liked, and worked at a local pet supplies store.  The next two jobs after that were at veterinary clinics, since that’s what I wanted to be when I entered college.  Unfortunately, working at vet clinics helped me realize I didn’t really want to deal with pet owners for the rest of my life, so I had to do a quick life goal readjustment.

In the meantime, delivery driver seemed like fun, and it was!  Minus the fact that what I earned during those several months just about covered the car repairs necessary due to the wear from delivery driving.  The next couple were crap jobs again, due to the fact that my ex wouldn’t hold a job himself and my scholarships and loans didn’t quite cover the room and board for two people alone.  But I fairly quickly during that time realized that even as a scantily-skilled college student, I could still choose to go for the “crap jobs” that were more intellectually or socially interesting, or that actually contributed in some way toward learning new skills, over mindless drudgery.

During this time I also embraced the “jill of all trades” philosophy, a bit of an iconoclastic departure from the “pick a job and do it unto death or retirement” programming so prevalent at the time.  I figured since I was smart and quick to learn in so many different areas, it would be pretty limiting to narrow down to just ONE area of focus for my entire working life.  I was still in school then, and still in an animal-intensive major (Animal Science), and switched to a crazy-intense summer job working with horses that probably merits its own post one of these days.

The three years as a Biology Dept inventory clerk probably sound tedious to some, but getting to organize data and inventory and go into cool science labs to find mad-scientist equipment with a barcode scanner at night when no one was around were definitely fun.  And my first major trained-skill career, body piercer, was absolutely something I wanted, sought out, trained hard for, and did for years.

Even my Freebirds time was useful.  After a particularly rough and desolate patch job-wise (third-shift custodian — definitely a crap job, but I learned a ton about classist assumptions among other things), during which I was also isolated from family and friends geographically, I thought I’d try the siren call of the steady paycheck and benefits, but went with a small corporation instead of a big megacorp, thinking it would better suit my inclinations. (I also moved closer to friends.) I was the fastest promoted female from crew to general manager in the company, and in case I ever need it I have restaurant managing skills to fall back on.  (Sadly, if I want to manage my health to live some semblance of a normal lifespan with my new health condition, I probably can’t realistically do that again because of the body energy load.)

Owning a small business is a leap I definitely wanted and worked my butt of to achieve, though health issues have absolutely made it much harder to maintain than it would have been otherwise.  I likely won’t own this shop forever, as I hope to be able to someday sell it to the employees who have been so awesome working for me, but I might own a business again in the future.  I have confidence if I do I’ll be much more versed in the common mistakes and able to avoid them.

Now I’m a home-based mom, and anyone who doesn’t know THAT’S a full-time job obviously grew up under a rock with no parents.  I also manage the flow of the household (with lots of help!), making sure chores and food and re-supply and all that good stuff happens when it needs to.  Additionally, I’m working on a full-time fiction writing career, and while the full-time part has definitely suffered while I adjust to the other new jobs, I still do something writing-related every day, even if it’s just some research.  (And with my projects, it’s never “just” research.)  I don’t have time or energy for creative hobbies at the moment with all the other work-load, but even that I expect to change with time.

It was evident even while I was still a kid that the world was changing, and it wasn’t going to be as easy to stay with just one career for an entire working lifetime.  As an adult, I’ve previously considered returning to school for something like nursing (job security anywhere you go!  high demand!  flexible hours! good pay!) but no matter how shiny all those other bits sound, I strongly suspect I wouldn’t have any more fun dealing with sick patients and their families than I would the pet owners as a veterinarian, especially those many many conditions where people willingly keep engaging in the behaviors that keep making them sick and don’t follow health advice.  I’m not sure I want that sort of extra stress, and I don’t really think the job security and benefits outweigh the impact, especially long-term, of such chronic stress.  I’d say that as a cancer survivor I have to be concerned about the impact of stress more than most people, but that’s a lie.  Stress damages or kills anyone given enough time and presence, so it’s in everyone’s best interest to not take on avoidable stress, since life gives us so much of the unavoidable kind.

These days, if I go back to school, it’ll likely be for a psychology-related degree, since one thing I never get tired of is the workings of the human mind.  I think that fascination would definitely sustain me through the stressful parts of that career.  Plus, it’s a job I can largely do sitting on my ass and thinking, and I’m now of the opinion that the break-your-back on-your-feet go-go-go jobs are for the teens and twenties time whenever possible.  I’d like to actually live a long time in reasonably good health, and I don’t think it requires a round of cancer to teach one about the importance of energy management.  Unfortunately, too many people (far too many) wait until such a health crisis (and possibly some measure of irreversible damage) to make those life changes.  If they do even then.

It is not easy.  It’s not easy to work against classist disadvantages, and might not even be available for everyone given our current societal structure.  But it IS possible.  It’s hard to work against the “shoulds”, like “I should stay with this soul-sucking job because my family needs a paycheck” — and that, too, might not be avoidable if you don’t have a partner or support network willing to help you through such a transition.  But it IS possible.  And for those of you that DO have the education or latent brainpower to learn what you want to learn, and have a family that is willing to work with you to make sure everyone’s goals can be achieved…

Well, where are the remaining stasis holds?  (Not a rhetorical question)

If my Fearless Readers like this and want more in the same vein, I can easily go on.  Ask questions, discuss your own perspectives in comments, share!

8 responses so far

Aug 06 2010

Milestones

Part of successful writing is figuring our your own particular writer’s quirks, and then either finding a way to use them to advantage or to work around them when they become blocky.  For me, for whatever reason, one of my quirks is getting past page 10 of a story or chapter.  Obviously, this problem doesn’t arise when I’m writing flash fiction or chapters shorter than 10 pages.  However, for those stories and chapters that fit the parameters, I’ve found that if I stop anywhere ON page 10, I have a huge problem getting the story momentum rolling again.  In learning workarounds for it, I’ve discovered that I can either write through to page 11, even at the very top, and break the psychological barrier against further words.  If I don’t have enough energy for that, then stopping at the bottom of page 9 will produce a similar effect, as long as the next time I sit down to write I get just over a page’s worth of words or more.

I am obviously getting healthier; this has been a rough week physically in many ways (including a mammogram), yet I’ve managed to take care of self and family decently well and also fit in several pages of writing.  I’ve missed one self-imposed deadline but am finishing the story anyway (having successfully passed the 10-page-hump this morning, whee!)

I am ditching all but one of the other self-imposed anthology goals in order to focus on a story that’s been building for most of a year, that I am hoping to submit to the second volume of the anthology I was published in previously.  The deadline is looming soon and I think this story is finally ready to be written.  It is nowhere near as easy a story to write as my recent ones have been, thus the long slow build pre-writing.  I really hope it turns out as nicely on the page as it is in my head, even getting close to that goal will make for a very good story indeed.  If I need breaks from that story while writing it I have the novel and a back-up anthology goal that I can try for in-between writing the big-scary short story.

What are some of your writer or artist quirks, the roadbumps and loopdeeloops that your brain throws in front of the creative process?  What ways have you found to work around or otherwise use these hiccups to your advantage?

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Jul 28 2010

Quick update, mostly writerly, with bonus discussion ?s

Published by Reesa under The Kid, Writing, health, momentum

I am recovering from all the recent travel though still more tired than I’d like.  We got the packet for The Kid’s school in the mail today, I’m excited and looking forward to all the supplies shopping!  It looks like a good balance of school and off time throughout the year.

I’ve finished two flash fiction pieces in the last two weeks, and this week I am working on another Byer Family story.  Today I wrote 4 1/2 pages on it and once again find Squirrel Byer to be one of the easiest narrative voices I’ve yet had the pleasure to write.  Plus this one is a nearly all-children cast of characters, which should excite my few but loyal fans who know my work.

So yeah, writing is slowly coming back online regularly rather than sporadically after the madness of the last couple of months of health recovery and travel and court stuff.  It’d be cool if I could get back on a daily writing schedule even before school starts.  If not, I suspect I’ll have much more time most days then.  Full-time child-care is demanding and exhausting!  But he’s a great kid, bright and inquisitive and thirsty to learn all about the world and the interesting things and people in it.  He also has interesting enough ideas that I can tell he’ll be good for my work overall, even if there’s been a few hiccups in my wordflow as we adjust to the new household member.

Interesting dialogue on several writer blogs lately about the difficulty of giving mid-career writing advice.  While I haven’t quite reached mid-career, I’ve certainly moved far beyond what a “new writer’s” group or website can provide me. The consensus so far seems to be that while new writers have to all tackle the same lessons — though the order can vary — mid-career writers have specialized along their path enough that any useful advice has to be tailored to each individual situation.

One of the biggest writing hurdles I’ve been tackling lately isn’t something I’ve seen talked about much on new writer sites, but I do think is a bit more widely-spread than just my experiences:  that is, a “block” on writing that isn’t a lack or stifling of ideas or words, but simply a lack of available energy.

Most health-normative people don’t push themselves enough to their limits that they have to learn how to carefully ration daily energy, especially in American culture.  Most, in fact, don’t use all the available energy they have in potential each day.  Over time, poor health, dietary, and exercise practices will cause that available energy to drop much closer to the low daily expended amount, but that’s a training of your body just as exercise and wellness training is.

Quite a lot of the artists I’ve met regularly push themselves to (or over) their known limits, either physically, mentally, or a combination of those and more.  Whether they have chronic health issues or are engaged in more voluntary boundary-testing, I know very few artists who have managed both an internally self-challenging and whole-health-positive worldview.

I’m trying.

I was even before cancer, but much more so after. I am blessed in that my ideas never lack; I am a fount of ever-burbling ideas, many of them good ones.  I have hardly ever encountered a “writer’s block” as I traditionally understand the term, where I couldn’t find where my words had gone or was worried about where my next good idea was coming from.

But oh my, do I know chapter, verse, and line notes about how a lack of available physical energy affects one’s ability to generate creative work.

In fact, I’ve thought so much and so long on various aspects of it that I’m not quite sure where to start writing about that topic.  So I thought I’d try asking you Fearless Readers: what interests you about this topic?  Is there something you’d like to know more specifically about my encounters with creative energy drain?  Perhap a question or three will get my thoughts moving more linearly on the subject — or at least more coherently.

Now back to the word mines (in this case literally a coal mine)!

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