Tuesday, September 17, 2013


Waiting room, again.  Early morning this time.
5 times in 10 days.

Usually I leave this part of my life out of my blog world.
But I'm tired and cranky.

I'd like to feel better.

This day, I decided to take an artistic view during my waiting time.

I tried to look through a different lens.

There are words, in different languages and textures.
Words to identify.
Words to warn.
Letters to build still more words.

There are numbers to identify, to track, to alarm, pacify or confuse.
There are numbers to let you in.

There are lights, each holding it's own meaning.
All of them tools for medical personnel.

There are lines.  Straight lines, curly lines...lines like pretzels.
Lines that transfer information, that make things possible.
"Say Ahhh..."
Lines that search for and embrace breathing.

There are shapes that grab or poke while doing their job.

I sit and wait.
I sit and breathe in and out, slowly...mist rising around me.
I flip through meaningless or interesting magazines where celebrities parade, science gets discovered and folks spend 4X my rent for a wicker chaise lounge.
Gee whiz!

I notice full spectrum fabric suggestions and think of my online friends.

In the end, I wait somewhere else and two hours later leave with a goodie bag.
A consolation prize of sorts.
But, the beautiful view is what holds my attention.

Later, at home, I take my new Nebulizer out for a test drive, while doing some stitching on the 'gathering blanket'.

There was a lot more to the post I wrote in my head while waiting and sitting and inhaling or exhaling.
It was breathtakingly eloquent.
It was filled with the noticed rhythms of those that travel these halls each work day.
Sensible shoes and colorful coordinated cotton outfits...and bustling.
Business like and kind at the same time.
Warm, but yet detached.
Because, they have their days to get through too, after all.

There was the noticed patterns, an order to things.
Vitals taken in the same efficient way each time.
Computer information entered in the same order each time.
Doctors bidding farewell as they open the exam room door, 
while the patient exits a moment or two later.

How many times a day must it flow just like this.
I saw it in my mind's eye as a continuous blur.
I heard it in a visualized movement.
Doctor swoops out the arc of an opening door, 
voice rising as he or she enters the open hallway
Patient(s) follow moments later, footsteps slow and subdued.

What does this rhythm feel like to those in the sensible shoes?

Also in my mental post were long ponderings on life-long chronic illness.
What that means.
How that shapes who one becomes, who one IS.
When that impacts others in one's life.

Fully aware things could be much much worse.
Fully aware that many have unbareable health situations.
Even though this asthma is not much fun...and is worrisome, 
I am grateful in the knowledge that this attack will not last forever.

I am grateful for my ability, with a bit of focus,  
to look through different lenses.
To reframe an experience...even when tired and cranky.

Thank you for reading today. 

Photos by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2013


Ms. said...

good morning the day after--may your day flow easily and breathing be relaxed. I often comfort myself in anxious times by writing too. The pictures are wonderfully illustrative, beautifully framed experience.

Peggy said...

Nancy, I hopehopehope you're on the upswing today. It was so interesting to experience the visit through your eyes and I imagine that your perspective must've taken a shift as well when you saw it through the camera's eyes. And then the writer's mind's eye. Surreal and beautiful. And the view! Happy stitching. Love to you.

Anonymous said...

Nancy, so sorry you are going through this... anything that affects our ability to breathe is especially stressful.

I loved the way you stilled yourself in part by noticing patterns and colors. I wish more bloggers did this. Showed some of the less glamorous part of their lives, I mean. It will help me 'read' your work. And anyway, it's real. It's there. Thanks for sharing.

Nancy said...

Michelle~ The Nebulizer is helping a bit :) I agree, writing helps. Thank you for your kind words.

Peggy~ Thanks, a tad better...I think :) All names i had to sew are now on! there will be others when I get back to work. Plus, it washed up beautifully!

Dee~ Thank you...breathing is an important one! Real it is :(

Velma Bolyard said...

i was an asthmatic kid, and had a bout this spring after maybe 35 years... the thing is, out lungs are our friends and it's hard when they're not working correctly. you've faced it here, with grace.70 orseger

Nancy said...

Velma~ Thanks. Ah, so then you know the elephant on the chest feeling. hope yours stays gone for another 35 years!

handstories said...

oh, Nancy. We've been in our own lack of good health sorry about yours. Moon's on day four of cold, turned flu- I'll think of you as I continue snuggling on the couch with good books...wishing you wellness. xox

Nancy said...

Cindy~ Thank you. I hope Moon is on his way to health soon, but in the meantime - snuggling is good :)

saskia said...

health, good health is a gift one takes for granted, until of course it changes for the worse....
I had no idea you suffered from asthma and agree with all those who have commented here how good it is to know this about you...not that it changes how I see you, but it makes my image/idea of you more 'complete' thanks for sharing this part of your life and I do sincerely hope you are feeling better!!

Nancy said...

Saskia~ Boy, that is the truth. My guy has not been well either and, well, we'd both like to get back to just the regular aches and pains!! Interesting that you use the word 'complete' for I have often pondered the contradictory nature of the blog world where we can know one another so very deeply and incompletely at the same time. Your comment, along with the others helps me feel brave to share more complete. :) Thank you for your thoughtfulness.

helen said...

I am glad you shared this too Nancy....and your positive, upbeat and artistic way of looking at your world and what is happening to you is inspiring and challenges me to remember to do likewise.

Thank you.

Easy breathing wishes to you. x

Nancy said...

Helen~ Thank you so much, it's not always easy to look through positive eyes.

Morna Crites-Moore * Wicked Waif said...

It is a scary leap, to share certain things. I'm impressed, that you shared so openly, that you managed to make a photo essay of your hospital day. I'm sure an asthma attack is scary as shit. To not be able to get the breath of air you are trying for ... When I was quite young, my older brother punched me - hard - in my solar plexus. It completely knocked the wind out of me and paralyzed my breathing mechanism. It was so painful and scary.

It's interesting, isn't it, that no matter what our ailments are we are able to conjure images of others who have "unbearable" health situations, and we are thankful to have our own instead of theirs. And maybe everybody feels that way.

It's the wee hours and I am rambling. I hope you are already feeling much, much better.

Nancy said...

Morna~ Thank you so much for your ramblings! The positive reception I've gotten from this post of sharing a bot more, has been so wonderful to read. It tells me that my online community is most definitely awesome! I to had the wind knocked out of me as a child (I sort of remember falling real hard) and it was indeed scary.
My mama used to say, "Everybody gets something, this is what I got." -regarding to her cancer. And that is the truth of it. We all have something. A something we'd probably rather not trade. Thanks for your comment Morna.

Patti Hall said...

Nice to meet you at my blog and glad I came for a visit here. I so agree with the others about this post. Love the photos, the calm words and the fact that you shared it all.
I have Mr. Nebulizer here by my chair, so another thing we share...

Nancy said...

Patti~ Thank you for your kind comment. Mr. Neb...what a thing to share. eh?!! Stop by the trail anytime :)

Suzanna said...

Just read your post, and hope you're feeling better now. My little grandson has asthma but lives so far away...your post helps me understand what he goes through...thank you, Nancy.

Nancy said...

Suzanna~ I'm maintaining much better, thank you. Sorry to hear of your grandson's asthma. My daughter & grandson suffer as well. It's hard to imagine the feeling of it, I'm sure.

Ruby Slippers said...

I'm so sorry to read about your asthma suffering and hope this episode lifts for you. I once had a situation where I had trouble getting enough oxygen and felt a real fear. I thought to myself at the time - this is what people with asthma experience and I really felt for them.

I also have a chronic illness which I've had since childhood and as you said - it does shape us and who we are. There have certainly been great challenges but I find it's given me a depth and a searching within that I might not otherwise have had. Like you, I'm grateful to be able to look through different lenses and reframe an experience - something both of us may have been helped to gain by health challenges.

Wishing you clear and easy breathing.

Ruby Slippers

Nancy said...

Ruby~ Thank you for the well wishes! I am maintaining much better now :) This health stuff can be tricky for sure.

Deb G said...

I'm slowly catching up. So sorry to hear that you weren't feeling well and hope you are feeling better.

Nancy said...

Deb~ I am feeling better, for the most part :)

Nancy said...

Deb~ I am feeling better, for the most part :)