Good vibes.

I have a dear friend who is dealing with some serious health stuff right now. On Tuesday, she is getting some surgery and tests done. Try to think good thoughts for her, will you?

Dual citizenship.

Over at "The Seated View," Lene Andersen, responded today to a description of a book as containing stories about people dealing with chronic illnesses. She quoted from that description and responded to it:

And I quote from the Book Descriptions: "In 2003 Cohen published Blindsided, a bestselling memoir of illness. The outpouring of support revealed to him that not only does the public want to hear from people who overcome the challenges of illness, but that in the isolated world of illness, there are people who want their voices to be heard. Strong at the Broken Places was born of the desire of many to share their stories in the hope that the sick and those who love them will see that they are not alone each” (emphasis mine). And I got a little stroppy.

She goes on to explain "the stroppy":

Which brings me to the reason for the stroppy: that line about the overcoming (which isn’t written by the author, so I’m not dissing him). I looked it up and to overcome: to defeat, to prevail over, to surmount, to conquer. And that's the tricky bit, because traditionally, yes, the public only wants to hear from people who "overcome" the challenges of illness. They don't want to hear about the daily struggle unless it culminates in an achievement, unless you're the plucky kind, preferably pretty enough to qualify for poster child status, the one who can smile through the hardship, remind the great unwashed of how lucky they are to be healthy. And you know what? There is no overcoming of disability.

(Even though I have quoted a lot from her piece, you should read the whole thing.)

I am ready to confess that I have not (yet?) experienced living with a chronic condition like MS, or ALS, or arthritis, or Crohn's. But I am going to try to learn what I can from over a year of pain and a couple of spikes.

One thing I have noticed so much recently--and that Lene's piece made me think about--is how ready people are for me to be finished with my recovery. I have received any number of e-mails from friends saying, "I trust by now that your shoulder is back to normal..." or well-wishing comments from colleagues, making it clear that what they are ready for is good news. These comments are hard to hear, because, frankly, I am ready for it, too: who isn't, really. But after I smile at them and tell them how much better everything is, I feel like a big fibber, because I am also extremely aware of how far I have to go, of what is still wrong, and also of my fear (understanding?) that this recovery process will probably continue until something else goes downhill.

In The Body in Pain, Elaine Scarry writes about the inability of a person in physical pain and a person not in pain to communicate about it:

For the person whose pain it is, it is 'effortlessly' grasped (that is, even with the most heroic effort it cannot not be grasped); while for the person outside the sufferer's body, what is 'effortless' is not grasping it (it is easy to remain wholly unaware of its existence; even with effort, one may remain in doubt about its existence or may retain the astonishing freedom of denying its existence; and finally, if with the best effort of sustained attention one successfully apprehends it, the aversiveness of the 'it' one apprehends will only be a shadowy fraction of the actual 'it'). So, for the person in pain, so incontestably and unnegotiably present is it that 'having pain' may come to be thought of as the most vibrant example of what it is to 'have certainty,' while for the other person it is so elusive that 'hearing about pain' may exist as the primary model of what it is 'to have doubt.'

When the pain from my infection was coming on (I did not then know what the problem was), I called my then-orthopaedist's office for help. The nurse told me to take some Advil. I told her the pain was very severe. She said she would talk to the doctor and call back later. "Later" means two different things when you have a schedule to uphold and when (it turns out) you have a colony of organisms outgrowing and devouring your joint. Yet, I see upon reflection, this nurse probably gets many complaints of pain: it is easier and more natural (and probably even necessary) to doubt.

Looking back now on my account of that weekend of pain, I am reminded that I do not succeed in communicating the feeling of the pain. In fact, my memory of the weekend makes it hard for me to imagine that that account describes the same experience that I remember. As Virginia Woolf says, "English, which can express the thoughts of Hamlet and the tragedy of Lear has no words for the shiver or the headache...." I do describe the various parts around the pain, and, I am ashamed to note, I do it all in the rhetoric of see-how-much-better-I-am-now. Well.

Susan Sontag writes:

Illness is the night-side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. Although we all prefer to use only the good passport, sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place.

Sometimes now I do feel like I was living abroad for a time, and even now I take occasional trans-oceanic flights, getting back just in time for some meeting or to teach a class. These days, my trips are less frequent than they once were, my stays abroad shorter. In fact, I can even think as the night-side kingdom as "abroad."

In my file of important documents in my desk I still have my c. 1997 readers' cards from the British Library and the National Library of Ireland, for whenever I need to go back. I expect that even if for a time I stash my night-side passport in that folder, it will never expire.

Resolve.

I have been trying hard to decide whether or not to bother with resolutions this year. Last year's swimming goals were pretty quickly dashed by my stupid shoulder, and I am not sure I want to tempt the Kindly Ones into giving me some new injury. But why resist the draw of the calendar? Admittedly, Dear Reader, this post is about navel-gazing and record-keeping, so it may be one to skip.

So first, assessment of last year's goals.

General resolutions:
1. Swim 150 yards or more of butterfly in every swim practice. Well, this went down the tubes when the shoulder did. I see that I was doing a decent job about it until then.
2. Find non-computer-related break activities and use them to replace aimless internet searching, doing several days worth of Washington Post sudoku at a time, etc. See? This is one of those embarrassing resolutions, because I was just thinking recently about how I needed to work on this, not even remembering
3. Turn off internet and e-mail while working. I have been much better about this, if only because I have finally come to believe that e-mail mostly brings annoying requests from bosses and colleagues and students. I now also have a sticky on my monitor that reads "NO RAVELRY DURING WORKTIME." So far, yes. We'll see how it lasts.
4. Eat one salad, one large piece of fruit, and one other vegetable per day. Um, hi. I totally forgot this resolution existed. I think, though, that I have usually succeeded on two out of three.
5. Exercise 4-5 days per week instead of 3-5. Did well with this until about October, when I got so damn depressed about the shoulder that I could no longer face the pool or anything else.
6. Do shoulder exercises every other day and also stretch on those days. Shoulder exercises: yes, for the good it did. Stretching? Well, again: this is one I was going to put down for this year.
7. Ice sore shoulder after swim practice. Check.

Then I had a bunch of swimming goals:
1. Swim 200 back in competition.
2. Swim 200 fly in competition.
3. Swim 1000 SCY free in competition.
4. Swim 400 IM strong in competition.
5. Beat previous best time in 100 SCY back (1:23.67) and SCM (1:33.45) in competition.
6. Beat previous best time in 100 SCY fly (1:16.73) in competition.
7. In one week during the summer, swim every practice that my masters team offers.

I doubt I need to say much about these, since I swam in exactly one meet (SCY), where I did not beat my best 100 BA time, and scratched the 1000 FR and 200 BA because I was having shoulder problems.

One thing that is worthwhile (read: a little painful) about this assessment process is the reminder of my great optimism c. January 2007. It reminds me of how I was thinking about swimming before my hubris got nipped. And while my Older and Wiser part is inclined to laugh derisively at that year-ago me, I do not think that is the right answer: instead, it gives me something to shoot for, a place to get back to, though the getting there will take time. And patience--a commodity in short suppy in these parts.

So, 2008, the year in which I set some easy goals and some harder ones.

1. Begin getting back in shape. This means making exercise a serious part of my life again. It means that rather than focusing on how much I am not presently an athlete, I remember that I want to be one again, and that that takes work, and then doing the work. For now, in a concrete way, this means coming back to the pool a couple of days a week (and working to keep my perspective while I am there), getting back in the gym for some other kinds of cardio work (presently, the recumbent bike, because it does not strain the shoulder), and remembering that junk in = junk out. Later (after, say, my March 12 doctor's appointment), this will mean beginning to swim again, and then gradually, beginning to train again, and perhaps eventually, beginning to compete again. But for this year, I probably have to phrase these things as beginning. Really, beginning again.

2. Keep working at nipping the solitaire addiction. Really, I mean this in terms of my general tendency to spend too much time on the internets. I am not really sure how I am going to approach this (and please refrain from commenting about how this post may not be helping. Thanks.)

3. Stretch. Oh yeah, and try not to forget about this one.

4. Learn to knit complicated cables. Then make something with such a pattern. Start simple: make a cap. If all goes well, I'll achieve this one this month, since I am already started on such a project.

5. Learn to turn the heel of a sock. There is even a sock on the needles, eagerly awaiting its new heel.

6. Remember how far I have come. My new Life Coach mentioned this in the context of returning to sports, but I could stand to learn it more generally, rather than constantly focusing on how I do not measure up. Yee haw.

This year.

I am marking this, the final official day of winter break, in four ways. First, instead of making some ill-conceived attempt to work (and not really succeeding), this morning I went to my first ever Pilates class. Second, I am listening to WNCW today, instead of the music I work to. Third, I am going to take a stab at finishing my book, which would mean reading 200 pages. (Luckily, it is a mystery, so this is possible. Also luckily, it is vacation, so everything does not have to be about achieving goals.) Fourth, I have just laundered most of the fleece clothing in the house (not inconsiderable), so since the dryer recently buzzed, I am now wearing hot fleece--ahhhhh.

But I am not writing this to talk about vacation; I am writing about plans. Specifically, I am thinking about "resolutions" for the year, and about assessment. Quite a few people say that most New Year's Resolutions go down the flusher pretty quickly because they are vague and often a little over-ambitious. So, here are seven resolutions, and then seven swimming goals. I am writing them here so I have a record of them.

RESOLUTIONS

1. Swim 150 yards or more of butterfly in every swim practice. This goal started as a "swim more fly" sort of goal, but OK, assessable. The 150 yards does not have to happen all at once, but it will require me to swim fly in "choice" sets, which I am not always inclined to do. 150 yards feels like it will require diligence, but it will not kill me. By summer, I would like to be swimming 300 yards of fly in each practice.

2. Find non-computer-related break activities and use them to replace aimless internet searching, doing several days worth of Washington Post sudoku at a time, etc. The PP pointed out recently that I used to do more gardening at our other house, so this was a better break. I agree. Also, one of the people on the swim team pointed out last night that constant computer work may be causing some of my neck and shoulder pain. I am not happy that this resolution is phrased so vaguely, but I am not sure how to assess it, so there you are. I am thinking of things like cooking, gardening, reading books away from the desk, etc. as break activities for the days when I work at home. This next one is related:

3. Turn off internet and e-mail while working. This goal is partly about not overindulging in computer activity, but also about increasing productive work. There can be occasional exceptions, for when I am using the internet as a part of my research--but no play.

4. Eat one salad, one large piece of fruit, and one other vegetable per day. This is an attempt to make "more fruits and vegetables" real, and my thought is that substantial portion sizes will get me closer to those USDA requirements. And back off, all you nutrition nuts! I am trying to be realistic!

5. Exercise 4-5 days per week instead of 3-5. That explains itself. Exercise can include swimming or strength training, but not leisurely walks around town, although those are a good bonus. When summer comes, and teaching goes away, then we raise the bar to 5-6 days per week.

6. Do shoulder exercises every other day and also stretch on those days. I fell off this wagon when the semester ended. Ahoy!

7. Ice sore shoulder after swim practice. Not necessary after every practice--only when it is hurting. This will be more fun now that the PP's fabulous mother has given me excellent icing equipment and I can say goodbye to the leaky plastic bag filled with melting cubes.

There. Those are the plans for the year. I will also post them here at my desk.

Now, swimming goals for this year. I do not want to set time goals around my breaststroke, because that would require upping my training from last year, and I do not see that as realistic, or even desirable. So instead, I want to target events that I usually ignore or avoid--a lot of butterfly and backstroke, both of which I have been working on in practice.

SWIMMING GOALS

1. Swim 200 back in competition. I have only swum this even as a part of a postal meet, never in a regular meet.

2. Swim 200 fly in competition. Ditto #1.

3. Swim 1000 SCY free in competition. I have never done this race, although I have swum the mile once and also the 500 several times. This is the only race that I have no time for, if you include postal meet times for the 200 back and 200 fly.

4. Swim 400 IM strong in competition. I tend to avoid this race, or else really slack it. I want to try to beat my previous best time (6:06.47 SCY). That time is from November 2004, and every time since then that I have swum it (all of twice, one of them postal, one in a regular meet) I have gotten slower.

5. Beat previous best time in 100 SCY back and SCM in competition. (1:23.67 for SCY, 1:33.45 for SCM, and that SCM time is from December 2004, before I began writing about swimming.)

6. Beat previous best time in 100 SCY fly in competition. (1:16.73) This will be tough, because I was hauling ass in that race, even beating all but one of the other people (read: 13-14 year old girls) in my heat.

7. In one week during the summer, swim every practice that my masters team offers. This has to happen in the summer, because it is logistically impossible with my teaching schedule. The practice schedule includes 7 x 1.5 hour sessions, M-Th pm and T/Th/Sa am. I will have to work up to this, to avoid injury.