Could It Be Insanity?

I sure hope not. But recently, I've wondered if I might be losing my mind. Here's the story:

First, let me explain that I am not a person who loses things. Of course, everyone loses something occasionally, but for me, those occasions are rare. Very rare. I subscribe to a method of organization that requires a place for everything and everything in its place. I always put things back after using them, so my things are readily available when I need them. I also make every effort to handle items only once. By that I mean that once I've used an item, I put it right back in its place rather than setting it down to be put away later. Yep, I'm organized. I have to be. My anxiety would spin right out of control if I weren't. That's why it's positively unbelievable that I would lose not one, but TWO car keys in a 3-week time period. Could it be insanity?

We have just two sets of keys to both our cars. A month ago, I managed to lose the second key to my little red car. How did this happen? I have no idea. All I know is that I drove home one day, and an hour later when Eli wanted to take the car, we couldn't find the key. The most poignant down side of having a place for everything and everything in its place is when something gets lost, there's really only one place to look. If it's not there, you're stuck. I looked in the outside right pocket of my purse (the place for the key to the red car), but it wasn't there. How could this be? I drove the car home, so the key had to have made it at least as far as the garage, but why wasn't in its proper place in my purse?

Keys these days are extremely expensive to replace because of the computer chips. What a totally stupid idea, by the way! Why can't I just have a regular car key that I can have copied at any hardware store? So with only one key remaining, Gerald was quite agitated, fearing we might lose that one too. He began searching all over the house, while I sat paralyzed by the whole scenario. Why wasn't that key in the outside right pocket of my purse. That is the ONLY place I would have put it. Could it be insanity?

We didn't find it. From that point, I was paranoid about the one remaining key, feeling anxious every time I didn't know exactly who had it. Since four of us share two cars, keys are passed around regularly. And if this wasn't enough, about a week later I lost the extra key to the mini-van. Yep, I sure did. It was on a Sunday morning, and as we raced out the door for church, we found that the red car wouldn't start, so we quickly transferred everyone into the van. Instead of using my van key that was safely in the outside left pocket of my purse (where it belongs), Eli handed me the extra van key, and we took off for church. In the middle of Sacrament Meeting, I noticed that I only had the one van key in my purse; the extra one was gone! How did this happen? Could it be insanity?

Gerald searched with equal vigilance for the lost van key but with no success. So now we had two cars and only one key for each. How do you spell S-T-R-E-S-S? We lived with this situation for nearly two weeks, worrying constantly that one of the remaining keys would get lost as we passed them around among Gerald, Isaiah, Eli, and me. Then one day last week, I happened to unzip a makeup bag in my purse, one that I don't use often, and voila! There was my key to the red car. Why was it in there? I have no clue. A few days later, Gerald found the extra van key outside on the street next to where we park the van. How did it get there? I don't know. Could it be insanity?

I suppose I accidentally and inadvertently dropped the key to the red car into the makeup bag at some point, but when? And I suppose I dropped the van key on the ground at some point in the rush of transferring everyone into the van and racing to get to church on time. But seriously? Two lost keys in a 3-week period?

Could it be insanity?
Very likely.

How Do YOU Spell Anxiety?

How about

o-v-a-r-i-a-n c-a-n-c-e-r
m-e-l-a-n-o-m-a
l-u-n-g c-a-n-c-e-r
b-o-n-e c-a-n-c-e-r
b-r-a-i-n t-u-m-o-r

and most recently, b-l-a-d-d-e-r c-a-n-c-e-r

Yes, anxiety can be spelled many different ways. So why am I writing about this tonight? Because I'm struggling more than usual with my ever-present anxiety disorder that specifies itself to intense fear of fatal diseases. Over the years, I've dealt (in my mind) with all of the above- mentioned illnesses and many others. Why talk about it? Because I've found that with most taboo topics, secrecy only gives them exaggerated and undeserved power. Talking openly about such topics strips them of this power, and that is good. Very good.

I can't remember a time that I didn't worry about terminal illness. I'm sure it has been since childhood. In the early days of our marriage, I had this comprehensive health book. I would follow Gerald around the house, reading him all the symptoms of whatever illness I was sure I had, which he referred to as "the disease of the week."

Me: "Look! Look! It says exhaustion is one of the symptoms of this? I MUST have it."

Gerald: "Of course you're exhausted. We're BOTH exhausted. You haven't let either one of us sleep for the last three nights!"

Please feel free to laugh here. Because it's funny. It really is. And if we don't laugh about it, we're going to cry. Laughing is better.

With the advent of the Internet, I had the world of diseases at my fingertips. I could Google any disease I wanted and immediately find all the gory details of its symptoms. From there, it was only a matter of hours before my mind caused me to develop the exact physical symptoms I read about. It's amazing how that works. My grandma was a Christian Scientist. I am not. As most of you know, I'm a committed Latter-day Saint, and as such, I'm thankful for the care of competent physicians. Still, in this one way, the Christian Scientists are spot on. The mind/body connection is incredible. While they would maintain the body doesn't actually exist (and, therefore, cannot become sick), I would maintain that the body most certainly does exist, and that the mind has incredible power over it.

Anxiety, itself, is biological. The saying "It's all in your head" couldn't be more true. For those of us with anxiety disorders, the serotonin in our brains does not hang around long enough where it needs to. End of story.

Eventually, Gerald basically banned me from all medical sites. The only medical condition I am allowed to research is anxiety. Nothing else. Seven years ago when we first moved to Montana and lived in a dorm for four months, and my anxiety was spinning out of control (was it lung cancer that time?), I sought the help of an employee assistance mental health counselor named Joe. He was really great, more help than I could have imagined, having lived with this stuff for so long. One thing he suggested was that I not allow myself to focus on the specific illness I think I have. Instead, I'm supposed to say, "I'm struggling with my anxiety" because that is the truth.

It's not easy, but it's good advice. And I try. In recent years, I've stopped waking Gerald at night. I figure at least one of us should sleep, right? And he can't really help anyway because regardless of how many logical and rational arguments he makes to support the fact that I'm the most physically healthy person he knows, when I'm sure I have a terminal disease, nothing can dissuade me. There's nothing logical or rational about it; that's what makes it anxiety.

So tonight, I'm trying hard to stay focused on the things I know to be true, at least intellectually. One of those is that I probably don't have bladder cancer. Try as I might, though, all the "fight or flight" anxiety symptoms are in full swing. And since I choose to deal with this disorder sans medication (because I'm at least as frightened of taking medication as I am of dying of a fatal disease), I'm doing everything I know how to do to combat it in other ways: plenty of exercise, healthy diet, regular sleep schedule, and relaxation/visualization.

And blogging. :-)

I Hope They Call Me on a Mission

I hope they call me on a mission
When I have grown a foot or two.
I hope by then I will be ready
To teach and preach and work as missionaries do.

He grew a foot of two (all the way to 6 feet!).

He prepared himself, so he'd be ready.

He had his final interview today.

And his papers are in!!!

Now we wait.

Not so patiently, we wait.

Here in Salt Lake City, we've been told calls generally come back about two weeks from when papers are submitted. Ahh, two weeks.

So if anyone would like to take a guess about where Eli might go, NOW would be the time to do so. Feel free to comment directly to this blog with your prediction; that way, comments will be preserved forever. Or just comment on Facebook if you prefer. It will be fun to see if anyone guesses right.

Meanwhile, this not-so-patient Mom will be waiting not so patiently for the mail each day.

Dominion King

Okay, I'm totally bragging here, but seriously, what do you call an 11-year-old kid who beats 25 adults, 2, 3, and 4 times his age, in a Dominion tournament? Dominion King! That's our Seth. Last night at the store "Game Night Games" here in Salt Lake City, Seth took on 27 other contestants in a 3-hour tournament of cards. He won game after game, progressing forward until he made it to the coveted "final table" of four players, where he placed 3rd. I'm a proud mom for sure.

I don't know much about Dominion, nor do I have any idea how to play, but it involves boxes and boxes of hundreds of different cards, all with different powers, and a board of some sort. That's about all I know. Seth learned to play from Isaiah, who has also taught Eli and Mathew and several friends. They often play at this same store in a Tuesday night league, but this was the first full-scale tournament. Sadly, Isaiah and Eli had to work. I thought Seth might not want to go alone, but no, he promised to clean his room, practice the piano, and do anything else I wanted if I would just take him there last night.

So I did. I had been to the store once before when I picked him up from a league night where he was playing with Isaiah. But last night had a different "feel." Excitement and anticipation lingered in the air, as folks came in carrying their boxes of cards, prepared for an evening of competition. Seth was by far the youngest. I would say the average Dominion player last night was around 35, but there were definitely players older than that. Both men and women play; often couples came in together. I waited until those running the competition had everyone registered and assigned to his or her first table. Seth was at Table #1 with an older lady (60ish), and two younger guys probably in their 30's. He looked so small! I left him at that point with instructions to text me between games and not to leave the store no matter what. I would be across the parking lot at a coffee shop with free Wi-Fi.

I walked over to Paradise Cafe and set up my computer, fully expecting Seth to text within the hour saying he had been eliminated and we could go home. How wrong I was! Instead, he texted me after each game, saying he had won and was progressing to the next level. I could sense his excitement in each text message, and then the last text came: "I made it to the 'final table!'" At that point, I packed up my computer and headed back over there. When I walked in the door, the guy running the competition immediately came over and said, "He's at the final table, and there were some really good players here that he beat." I stayed out of sight as the final game went on. I didn't want to distract Seth, but I doubt that could have happened. I don't think I've ever seen him so focused. When the game ended, I went over to congratulate all four players, and Seth told me he placed 3rd. The four finalists were to come up front for a picture and to receive their gift certificate prizes. Seth was elated, I could tell, but he didn't show it. Cool and calm, with little expression, he sauntered up to the front.

On the way home, he chattered endlessly about the different games. I asked him if he had to concentrate hard on each move. "No," he replied. "Once I saw each new board, I knew exactly what I was going to do." I asked him how he learned all this, and he credited his big brother. "Isaiah taught me about all the cards, which ones are good, which ones aren't, and how to play them right. He taught me all his strategy." I wish Isaiah had been there. And Eli. We might have had three at the final table. They were so excited when we picked them up from Mac. Grill, so proud of their little Dominion King.

Mid-January Reflections

January is NOT my favorite month. Absolutely not. I've probably mentioned this at least a couple times on this blog. The problem is that in January, it's still cold, but Christmas is over. That's not good. Here in Utah, I'm much warmer than I ever was in Montana in January, but yes, it's still cold, about 21 degrees when I went out this morning. The good news is this cold, dark, depressing month is half over. And it hasn't been all that bad either. There have been some definite high points.

First, Gerald and I spent a couple days at "The Inn on the Hill" in downtown Salt Lake City over the weekend of January 2nd - 3rd. It is a beautiful place right up on the hill by the Capitol . Our room had a balcony with a view of the lights on Temple Square. So lovely!

Second, a week ago, I got to go hear the tiny heartbeat of Shulamith's baby. That sound is intimately familiar to me, having heard it dozens of times throughout my five pregnancies, yet it is always miraculous. A new and precious little spirit is on the way to Earth, already so loved by his or her family. In another couple of weeks, Shulamith and Mathew will be able to know the sex of their little baby. Will it be Swen or ????? (girl's name still undecided, although there are many, many great ideas!)

Third, this past weekend, I flew to Portland to visit my family. I was able to help my brother and a friend with a project they're working on and then spend some great time with my nieces and my mom. It was a quick trip but so worthwhile. I'm glad I was able to go.

Fourth, a week from Thursday is our first Hale Theatre production. Shulamith and I have season tickets, and we can't wait!

Fifth, progress toward my walking goal (1,200 miles in 2012) is well under way; I was even a couple miles ahead by last Friday. The trip to Portland was a bit of a setback, and I have some catching up to do, but I will make it. How's it going for you, Kim?

Sixth, (this is cheating a little because it moves us into February, but still...), on February 4th, Eli and Seth and I will go to Rexburg for Emma's baptism. A while back when I mentioned this to Seth, his response was "What? Emma is eight already? Well, she's just growing up way too fast." I cracked up inside when he said this. I mean at age eleven, he's nearly a senior citizen! When I finally stopped laughing, though, I realized he is absolutely right. How is it that Emma can be eight years old? That just doesn't make sense. But eight she is, and we are so excited to be there on her special day.

So, as I reflect on life this cold January night, I find that it's still not my favorite month. Nevertheless, there is much good to be found, not the least of which is a warm Kitty curled up here beside me.

Pioneer Children Sang as They Walked...

and walked

and walked

and walked.

The words to the familiar primary song celebrate the Mormon pioneers who crossed the plains, pulling heavy handcarts, and enduring tremendous hardship in their search for religious freedom. How far did they walk? I'm not absolutely sure; however, the "Mormon Trail" is said to be over 1,200 miles, so at least that far. Last year, my friend Trudy committed to walking that distance in the course of one year. And she did it. And I am proud of her. But I thought it would be even cooler to do it this year because it would be 1,200 miles in 2012.

Typically, I don't make New Year's resolutions; I try to do my best every day as much as possible, rather than saving up a bunch of things to change on January 1st. But this year, I do have this one resolution. I'm going to walk 1,200 miles in 2012. It really isn't so far. Broken down, it is 100 miles each month, so 3.3 miles each day. Those of you who know me, know that I'm already an avid walker. About 10 years ago, I experienced a difficult challenge, the betrayal by someone who I believed was my friend. The hurt was deep; I had never experienced anything like it, nor have I since. In the middle of all that, though, one good thing happened. I learned that walking made me feel better. I don't know the scientific reasons (something about endorphins?); I only know it worked. When I walked regularly, I felt better. I felt positive and happy and optimistic, despite the circumstances.

That was a long time ago, and today, I hardly ever think about it. For me, it is truly "over." But the walking is not. I found regular walking to be beneficial in so many ways that I never stopped. When we moved to Billings, I found the most wonderful walking partner, someone equally committed to walking as I was. This made it even easier and more fun. Now that we're here in Utah, I don't have such a partner. Most of the time I'm on my own. Occasionally, Shulamith goes with me, but keep in mind that she is 15 weeks pregnant, teaches kindergarten five days a week, and hosts at Macaroni Grill on Friday and Saturday nights. Understandably, she doesn't have much time or energy for walking. So I am mostly on my own with just my iPod.

On the days I walk, I usually do at least 4 miles, so 3.3 doesn't sound bad at all. The glitch is that I don't go every single day. I go most days, but not every day. If I want to reach this goal by the end of the year, I'll need to go every day or nearly every day, and when I don't go, I'll need to make up the mileage later. Today is January 4th, and my record so far is this: Sunday, 3.5 miles; Monday, 4 miles; Tuesday, 4 miles; and today, 3 miles. So far, so good. If you would like to join me in this endeavor, I would love that. It would be great to have some walking buddies, even if we don't live close enough to actually walk together. It's not too late to start. Just keep track of your miles and aim for at least 3.3 each day.

Pioneer children sang as they walked...

and walked

and walked

and walked.