In the first few seasons of The Late Show, Stephen Colbert did a recurring skit, then a best-selling book, called Midnight Confessions, in which he “confesses” to his audience with the disclaimer that he isn’t sure these things are really sins but that he does “feel bad about them.” While Stephen and his writers are famously funny, I am not, so my JC’s Confessions will be somewhat more serious reflections, but they will be things that I feel bad about. Stephen’s audience always forgives him at the end of the segment; I’m not expecting that – and these aren’t really sins – but comments are always welcome.
In recent months, I’ve become very high-maintenance.
Not a fan.
My style for years has been no-muss, no-fuss. My hairstyle doesn’t require blowdrying and products. I don’t wear make-up. My clothing style is simple. I can get ready to go out in five minutes or less.
I could spend most of my time and brainpower on more creative endeavors and helping others.
Now, it seems that taking care of myself has become a full-time job.
In attempts to improve my current state of health, there are physical therapy exercises daily and near-constant attention to my posture and head/neck position. Needed rest periods. An increasing complicated array of medications, including one that needs to be mixed in a full glass of water and drunk immediately – four times a day – which makes it a bit tricky if I have to be away from home for several hours. Trying to figure out what to eat and drink when a food recommended for dealing with one of my syndromes is excluded by another to the extent where I sometimes don’t know what to eat. Dealing with my AutoPAP machine. Fussing with dental care and retainers. Going to appointments and tests with so many specialists that I’ve lost track of them all and trying to get information coordinated among them and with my primary care doctor, because, of course, the practices, despite all the electronic records systems, can’t seem to do it. Doing research on the various symptoms and diagnoses and trying to piece everything together.
It’s time-consuming and frustrating and doens’t leave much energy or brainpower for the thousand things I’d rather be doing.
There is some hope.
Lately, my brain fog and fatigue have diminished and it seems that we are finally getting closer to a more comprehensive diagnosis and clinical outlook.
Maybe that will translate into an easier daily regimen.
I don’t think I will ever be low-maintenance again, but maybe medium?
Joanne Corey 