My dear friend Barbara taught me the term “extreme self-care” recently.
I was going to her Farewell Party. But I got sick three days before the scheduled date. Then we tried to reschedule for a few times until it was too close to her departure of November 4, which is tomorrow…
I could have dropped by her place as I stopped my eight-day IV treatment on Thursday. But she suggested that I listened to my body.
She was right. I was still weak. Plus, I was having a huge reaction to the medication that I was drowsy and depressed.
“In times like this, we need to exercise extreme self-care.”
That means that Oct 17 was the last time I saw her before her final departure…
I wish I didn’t stay up late every night for the last month I was in LA. I wish I rested more when I was on the plane. I wish I didn’t get up at 1:30 the first night I was back… But I was too distraught to feel or act otherwise.
How many times do we ignore the signals from our body before we get struck down hard? My latest pneumonia episode should be a cautionary tale.
Like the world’s worst coach, we demand our body to go the extra mile for us when it’s at the verge of collapse.
“Where there is a will, there is a way” has been my mantra as long as I can remember before my health gets in the way…
Is it worth it? Is it faster to dash and get sick in the middle, or go steady and rest?
One of my biggest regrets is that I didn’t fully enjoy LA until it was time for me to leave. Am I going to do the same for Shanghai when I leave yet again later?
I told dad this evening when we strolled in the neighborhood park that I wanted to exercise with him every dawn as I recover. I shared with him my fears, my anxieties – just like the way we talked via WeChat when I was in LA.
I vowed that I would be more patient with mum regardless of her hoarding pet peeve or her poor sense of fashion…
Honestly, how many more moments do we get to spend with our parents 24/7 as we become adults?
Enjoy while you can.