Happy as a Lark

A few weeks ago, in the midst of wallowing in strep throat, I received a call from a new friend. We were recently introduced by a mutual amiga who was positive we would become fast friends upon first sight. She was right.
Along with many other non mentioned descriptors that could be used,  Katy is an Imagination Yoga Teacher, a kayaker, and a member of the Portland Intergenerational Women's Choir.
The reason she called?: She deemed me an appropriate choir recruit. The choir is made up of daughters, mothers, grandmothers, great-grandmothers, and their friends.
Because I'm always on the look-out for a new adventure I signed up, before they could discover that I don't sing. I then admitted that the last time I sung with an organized group was in 9th grade..mostly just to hang out with David Peachey.  I once had a boyfriend that told me. "Sometimes you sing very nice, and sometimes you don't." It's kinda hit or miss for me. So to my delight, it turned out, signing abilities weren't a choir requirement. This was later confirmed by the persnickety yet lovely Murielle, an 80 something year old soprano with owl like hearing. She pointed out the ladies across the room that were off tune. I giggled while trying to decide if this was a-dorable, and/or her secret way of saying "YOU are off tune." Then I realized it didn't matter, so I sang louder.
I've now been to two practices. Both times I've left with a bizarre feeling of, perhaps elation. I've become so unaccustomed to singing that I seldom benefit from this sort of dopamine rush. I mean really, other than the drunken karaoke escapades, I rarely sing. Apparently, it feels great?! Why aren't more people talking about this? Maybe they are, maybe it's me that's not listening. Either way, I love singing. I'm also learning a whole bunch about music composition, reading notes, "classroom" management for a group of 40+ chatty women, how to make new friends, and how to breathe from my diaphragm.

And here I thought I was getting too old to learn new things. (#Imfreakingoutaboutturning30!)

How I didn't cure strep throat.

Dear Blog, 
I suffer from chronic strep throat.
I can easily get it up to 6 times a year. Fortunately I've experienced 3 to 4 year respites from the torture, but when it comes I get hit hard. Perhaps it could be something anatomical, maybe my tonsils, or even worse... what if it's stress?

After some careful thought and months of research I decided that the next time around would be an all natural attack to the terrible bacteria that loves my throat. Antibiotics are too harsh on my stomach and on my body as a whole and obviously I have some sort of resistance to them.

So here's what I did.

1. I slept.
2. I pumped Vitamin C into my blood stream. I opted to use Vitamin C tablets and EmergenC packets. At least 4 pills a day and 2-3 packets of EmergenC. I think I was dreaming of Vitamin C after day 2.
3. I gargled with salt water. I gargled with apple cider vinegar. I gargled with echinacea. I gargled with cayenne pepper. With both cold water and hot water.

4. I drank literally the most disgusting water and echinacea mix man could imagine ingesting. I had no idea echinacea tasted so terrible. Four times a day I did it... knowing this just had to help.
5. Teatime in my household occurred every 1.5 hours. I tried slippery elm bark tea, licorice, chamomile, and lemon echinancea. Every 3rd hour I'd make a strep throat appropriate "hot toddy" which consisted of lemon, honey, cayenne pepper and rum with either boiling hot water or lemon echinancea tea.
6. I phoned a friend. I'm all about single people empowerment, but being sick is just not something anyone should have to do alone. A few short hours later I had a delivery of "homemade" WholeFoods lentil soup and saltine crackers. A sick person's must. (Thanks Joe.) I was actually fortunate enough to later receive another soup delivery the next day. (Thanks Becky)
7. I watched all those movies that I've been dying to see. Ok, so really I watched 2 seasons of the Sex and the City reruns.
8. I ate garlic for breakfast, garlic for snacks, garlic for lunch and garlic for dinner. Straight up raw. Garlic is quite powerful as an antibiotic. It has been said that 1 milligram of allicin(which is the chemical that is produced when garlic is chewed, chopped, or bruised) has a potency of 15 standard units of penicillin. And yes, I do smell like garlic. Still.
9. I made homemade vegetable broth and drank it all day. 
10. I cried. 
11. I took an Allibiotic 3 times a day. This particular one was made from garlic, elderberry, olive leaf extract, and oregano. 

Did it work? 

Sure it kicked my fever and I got rid of 97% of the pus in my throat... but noooooooo... it did NOT work! Natural medicine you failed me. I ended up with a throbbing ear and numb face caused from a bacterial infection that was not "properly" treated. The cute doctor said "Antibiotics are a must right now. Do not argue." I said "ok" and scheduled an appointment with the specialist. 

After 4 days of fevering and pain, oh my, a very frustrated Elissa welcomed the last round of antibiotics (I've decided I won't get strep again). And then I went home and did a different kind of research.

Yoga teaching links the 7 major chakras to 7-year time periods. They begin, as would be expected at birth with the base chakra, and work successively through each chakra. Year 29, which I've just recently begun, marks the beginning of the 5 cycle and is connected to the throat chakra. There is a strong focus on communication, self expression, inspiration, independence, openness to higher development and speaking with wisdom. Often imbalances within your throat chakra manifest as ear, nose, and throat problems.

Because I doubt that the Otolaryngologist is going to tell me that the reason I've gotten strep throat 4 times in the last 6 months is a result of a chakra imbalance I've decided I'll just self diagnose. 

Self medicating the first time may not have worked, but let's just try something a little different this time.

Or maybe my job is too stressful...?

Love, 

Crunchy Elissa

How baths salts saved my life.

I went back to work this week. I am still not entirely sure if I'm going to be able to publish this post today, as my true work feelings are not yet understood by even myself. Perhaps I'll use this as a project to organize my thoughts. In raw form.

Day one back to work:
I was so anxious the night before that I barely slept. The little sleep I did receive was consumed by bizarre dreams uncomfortably verging on being nightmarish.
I woke up early. Made coffee and sat in my living room for a morning meditation. (I'm challenging myself to spend time in meditation for 40 days. And then evaluate the situation to see if I'd like to become a professional meditater.)

I left my house 5 minutes ahead of schedule, coffee in tow, feeling at peace. (I'm not quite ready to quit coffee.)
The moment I parked my car at "headquarters" I realized how anxious I get after driving. Anxiety is almost inevitable after a 35-80 minute commute.
I hadn't put my bag down before the requests came pouring in. Packets were waiting for me in my mailbox, over a hundred emails in my inbox, and five missed calls. All before 7:30 am?!
It was almost as though I could see my brain transform into a factory robot that was mass producing bullets of cortisol that were cannon balling into my bloodstream. How's that for dramatic.
I remembered my morning meditation and found myself seated at my desk, eyes closed, and breathing. Followed by 30 minutes of nonstop catching up and racing to the board room for our 8:00 morning department meeting.
I'm not sure if it was intended to be a pep talk or a mockery. 

"Budget cuts this, budget cuts that. Remember to make a presence in your schools. Everyone's class sizes went up so they need you to work harder and longer! Go you!  Oh and your insurance prices went up so budget better this year if you want to save. You're all so smart! Your expertise is mind blowing. This isn't final yet, but maybe don't expect that cost of living salary increase this year. Bummer right?! And now let's go save the world!!"
At this point I had a small pile of handplucked eyebrows reminding me of the cortisol take over in my body.
Then we were back at it. Meetings, phone calls, stress eating, angry teachers, and upset parents, ending with a 40 minute commute back home.
I walked in my door and uncontrollably burst into tears, perhaps even an occasion sob could have been detected. I talked through the day with a former coworker and then found my way to the park. Within moments I was invited to sit under a tree, where I proceeded to cry for over an hour.
I knew I had to pull myself together so I drew up a plan. The plan involved bath salts, chocolate, licorice root tea, candles, and a book. I collected all of the items and decided that I would fight back. I wanted the cortisol out of my body.

I stayed in the bath until my cat tried to join me. I felt rejuvenated after a 60 minute soak.
I meditated myself to sleep knowing that tomorrow we could try this again. 

Day two wasn't quite as challenging. However there wasn't a question in my mind that if I didn't make it to the 4:00 yoga class I might just burst into tears again.

Day three I brought with me the peace lily that had made my bedroom it's home. I decided I would attempt to bring part of the peace and beauty I find in my home into my work space. I prepared a small calming area in my cubicle and went at it again. However this was also the day my brakes went out(ish) and resulted in a $330 fee. Bummer right?!
But that was ok, I knew I had an evening jog and bath waiting for me when I returned home.

By day four I was exhausted. Even with going to bed by 9:15 every night. I felt emotionally drained and endlessly grateful for the 5 day mini break ahead.

I've got 2 1/2 days left and I feel a sense of urgency. I have got to come up with a plan! Life is too short to not live the best way I can! To live my dreams.
In the meantime, sure, there are bath salts and chocolate and yoga, but I've got to figure out how to build this bridge. Or perhaps the bridge is already built and I just have to find my way across.

Blah blah blah.

What matters is how quickly you do what your soul wants. Rumi