Those who have worked with me and taken a call from me before 9:00 am have certainly heard me say it: "I do my best thinking in the shower."
Under normal circumstances I would stumble into the shower each morning to get ready for work and the warm water would get the wheels turning. I'd think about whatever was on my mind the day before. After a night "to sleep on it" it was amazing the ideas (some of them a bit out in left field) that would come to me in the shower. My showers didn't take 2 hours or anything like that, but there were times where I realized that I had gotten so completely caught up in my thinking that I simply let the water run over me for several minutes. I'd stand there with no real accompanying effort to actually get clean, all while I fleshed out the details of a tweak to a compensation system or thought through how I might present a new idea to a team.
Now I have to be careful when I shower. I didn't mourn it publicly, but Marla has already heard me lament that my showers are simply not the same anymore. The catheter that springs from my chest and the dressing that covers it cannot get soaked. I took the advice of a nurse when I first got the Hickman and use plastic wrap to keep it covered with little fuss-or-muss. But this quick solution won't allow me to stand in the stream of warm water and simply let the water wash over me. Instead I have to make judicious and precise use of the hand-held nozzle in order to carefully soap up and rinse off. My new showering ritual has no room for the mind-wandering, problem-solving excursions of several months ago and has shortened to really just a few minutes. In fact, it probably takes me longer to get the temperature right and apply the plastic wrap than it does to actually get clean.
This morning it occurred to me that this is yet another temporary casualty of my cancer treatments. And it isn't the luxuriousness of lingering in a nice warm shower that I'm writing about--though I certainly miss that. It's the chance to quietly solve all the world's problems (or at least the one that bugs me most) and to emerge with some new idea to act upon or an angle to try when I report to work. That nice burst of inspiration brought excitement and energy to start the day--something that would color and shape my early morning activities.
It appears that I may be in line to be admitted today. Here's to the start of round 3 of my treatment and the speeding of my schedule by a day or two. And here's to identifying yet another reason to endure the treatments and be excited for my progress--now if I only had hair to wash . . .
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Why am I imagining the title of this entry spoken in Carol Channing's voice? O_O
ReplyDeleteI would ask if you've tried to find another morning ritual that could replace the thinking-in-the-shower one but I'm sure you have. I pace around and think while I brush my teeth though I have yet to come up with any great ideas while doing that...
Here's to a speedy treatment and recovery! But you may want to break out the plastic wrap before you leave the house today with all that rain falling. Y'all take care now, hear?
- Liz
Hey, at least with kids you were able to take a shower undisturbed. I think about that kids book with Mama Elephant titled "Peace at Last". Just as Mama would relax in the tub, each one came in to tell Mama somethin'. I know you'll dream up another ritual that will realize the same effect.
ReplyDeleteOk, now for round 3. These are going fast. You'll be back to your normal rituals sooner than you think!
So how's the writing going?
Marie
The writing is moving slowly. I am still thinking about turning my blog entries and some personal journal writings into a collection of essays. My novel idea is moving very slowly. Years ago I had done a fair amount of planning and back story work that I cannot seem to find now. Because of that I am left to recreate that effort before I can effectively start writing. On a positive note, I think my back story work is actually better this time around.
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