The Gift of Fading Blooms

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I recently had an MRI to determine if my rotator cuff was torn by my fall (it wasn't; just bursitis). I will never understand why they can't invent an MRI to do a shoulder (isolated in it's own little cuff inside the electric coffin). Instead, in you go, full body with ear plugs (that really don't work) for half hour that sounded the like sea-plane convention we do our best to avoid each year on our lake!

I suspect it was because of the rattled nerves of the done (or done-in) MRI patients that there is a lovely meditation garden just steps away from the building.

I really needed it after that!

The garden isn't large -- a path lined by trees, plants and flowers -- with a pond, a small bridge and a spot with several resting benches.

You never know who you'll encounter there.

Walking the garden was quiet and lovely. It helped me get my sanity back after the MRI.

The pond was in full glory, filled with blooming lily pads.

The koi were out, too! I loved how they swam under the bridge and back. Despite the "Do Not Feed the Fish" signs, I'm sure they have had a few errant walkers and they were prepared.

I couldn't help but notice that many of the blooms in the garden were past their peak.

Like me.

Blossoms were falling, some of the petals had been damaged. Perhaps by insects. Perhaps by time.

Even the petals on some of the roses were beginning to turn backwards, as though they might be all inside out soon enough.

 

And yet there was still a quiet beauty about them. That rose smelled as sweet as any of the others. Perhaps even more so. It was as though every fading flower knew their time for being the best bloom on the block was limited, and yet they were still giving it their all.

And in doing so, one could see more deeply within and note how elegantly they were structured, how their seeds would move on to settle in the earth for another year when they would bloom again.

Even the waterlilies, so stunning as they floated on their pods, would come to an end. But today, they were smiling.

I couldn't help but note that new buds were beginning to pop out and that there would be great beauty in this garden, long after the poppies had dropped their petals.

And they will fade at some point as well. The Japanese maple that shows its red leaves now will eventually be joined by the oaks, maples and sumac in their show of color.

Winter will come to our garden.

And then spring and summer once more.

 

New flowers and plants and trees will find their place -- and each will be beautiful in its own way.

There will be love. And beauty.

And so it goes. And goes. And goes.

I wrote this last week after my shoulder injury and when I was expecting test results from my lung cultures today. This morning I called to make sure I didn't have to go in again just to have them say, "Sorry, we don't have your results back. It was good I did, because they didn't have them back, so I am rescheduled for late August (first available).

To say I am discouraged (and exhausted) would be an understatement. I'm trying SO hard to be positive, but the waiting is getting me down. Sometimes I think I am going stark, raving mad. Or totally off the wall. Take your pick.

Just wanted to share with you as you've been so kind to ask. If it wasn't pouring so hard, I'd seek this garden out again today.

Signs of Life and Change

So many of you have emailed me and asked for an update, I thought I would share. Then it will be onto other posts for awhile, some of which have been stacked and waiting! (These photos are from the two walks I have been fortunate to take over the past two days. Short ones, but important in so many ways.)

Harry the Heron at Groesbeck Ditch

First of all, thank you, thank you, for your comments, emails, notes and calls. I'm not sure if you can realize what that means -- I've said it's like a soft, fleecy blanket wrapped around you, keeping you close. It means more than I can say.

MSU meditation garden

 The shingles did indeed set in and with them the debilitating headache I mentioned in the last post. Clearly the most painful thing I've ever experienced and some of you have said much the same. I'm pleased to say that now the head pain is still constant and never-ending, but the "Psycho-stabbing" bits have stopped. My face and head are healing over and I will spare you the photos of that! 

Trout Lily

 Word of advice: Get the shingles shot.

On the other, more serious front is that I have a final name for my malady -- mycobacterium malmoense. I think my doc was floored. He was so sure it was MAC and in a way it is -- he described it as MAC's reclusive and rare cousin. In fact, he said he looked it up on Google, which both made me laugh and gave me pause. I hope it wasn't wikipedia, though that's the only definition I can sort of understand.

MSU Meditation Garden

 They will start a three-drug oral chemo protocol after my shingles are gone, hopefully later this month. It will go for two years.

The CT also showed a thyroid mass that needs an ultrasound, and that will come soon, but right now I'm tackling things one at a time.

MSU Meditation Garden

 After being off work for way too long, today was my first half-day back. Made it through, but it was tough. But I do feel I have good support on that front, which means a great deal. I may work at home part time if need be, but I'd like to be "in it" with everyone else.

Despite a purring cat and a handy bed for naps, being home is a little frustrating when you don't feel well. Like many, I have closets to switch, basement and garage to clean, garden to weed and plant, laundry to do, work from the office to plug away and all I managed was some of the office stuff. The rest, not done at all. Not a darned thing.

Harry

 Baker Rick is taking good care of me -- the pounds of yeast he bought are being put to good use. He has a lot on his plate right now and I hate to be one of the bad things, but he is right there for me and that means so much.

Another friend on FB suggested some relaxation/visualization tapes and someone else downloaded them and added them to my iPod. They're tremendously helpful.

Trout Lily

 My neighbor, who is both a nurse and homeopathic practitioner, brought over some essential oils and told me about some wonderful natural remedies. They won't cure things, necessarily, but they may help. I'm big on what will help.

Can anyone tell me what this is? While many plants at MSU Meditation Garden were marked, this wasn't.

 My massage therapist offered some assistance as well, and while I couldn't do it right then because of possibly sharing the shingles, it was more appreciated than she could know.

MSU Meditation Garden

 I've taken a couple of walks during the first genuinely perfect days of our overdue spring and as you can see from the photos here, it's bursting. Signs of life and change.

And finally -- though you may have noticed the hint in the photos above, Harry the Heron is back. And he has friends, a second heron and two white birds (the same) that we can't identify. No egret crest, but long legs.

Anyone able to tell me what this bird is? There were two of them at the Ditch, I have other photos, but they're a bit fuzzy. Like this one.

 Needless to say, I felt my heart explode with the rhythm of life and spring. Now I just need to be well enough to enjoy it.

Onward, one day at a time.With you support and knowing you are in my corner, I can't go wrong.