One Click Away

Sitting in a sand chair near the edge of the pond, underneath a patio umbrella because the olive tree was still recovering from an epic pruning, I realized I was dizzy and the coat hanger pain of low blood volume in my brain was creeping up slowly. I paused to take a picture of a dramatic display of dragons zipping about near the surface of the water. For a moment I was lifted up above the pain however briefly.

The nausea had been horrid this morning. I remember waking in the middle of the night wondering why I felt like death. Only to take my pulse with my Android phone and realized it was hovering weakly at 60. Low pulse can feel just as miserable as the tachy highs of POTS. Dysautonomia at its finest.

I remembered too that I hadn’t slept much in the last four days. Adding more sleep debt than my ellusive midday maybe naps would recover. In all I was bound to be uncomfortable.

I would have cut my pond visit short if I had more energy to walk back the 30 paces to my backdoor. But anyway a mourning dove landed near my feet and I was wisked away from the body’s narrative for another minute as she drank peacefully at the water’s edge. Sweet hot 🐦.

As I refocused my eyes from my Android to the arm of the beach chair I noticed that I was not fully reclined. So I put my phone down, moved the little glass bottle of ice cold water the redneck brought me (because he realized I wasn’t inclined to come inside just yet, and unlike the bird I need encouragement to hydrate.) And I lowered the back of the chair one click.

It wasn’t much. But it was enough to get just a bit more blood flow to my brain. It wasn’t going to solve all my problems but it was enough to let me linger where I loved for just a while longer.

Sometimes we can’t fix stupid broken … But every now and zen there is a minor adjustment we can make in the moment that allows us to relax a little, release a bit of tension and smile ever so slightly for almost no reason at all.