This Girl Has Problems
Well, September aka The Month of Asking For Help, is now gone, but I feel like I need to do one more help-related post. A confessional of sorts.
Note the sling? Long story short, my 72 pound ninny of a dog got spooked by a dog half his size and took me out at the knees while on a walk. I went down hard. Mostly on my shoulder but also on my hands and knees. And on my face. Good times.
Fast forward 3.5 days and the pain was gone, unless I pushed on my chest. So, what’s a girl to do? Meet one of her besties for their regularly scheduled Body Pump class so she can pump. her. body. Yeah, I’m pretty sure you can already see the flaw in the plan. Although, I’m also pretty sure that knowing me as you do by now, you can also guess that I had no clue that there was a big glaring flaw in my spectacular plan.
The warm-up was fine, the squat track was fine, the chest track was killer. Super hard. I was looking around trying to make eye contact with my fellow sufferers, but I was noticing that no one else seemed particularly hot and bothered. Sure enough, we finished the track and I could tell that something was wrong. I babied myself the rest of the class and then headed home.
By evening my chest and shoulder were a hot mess. So was my arm – I had a steady nerve pain running its entire length and my hand would go alternately numb and tingly.
Long story still not short, I was diagnosed as having messed up the soft tissue in my right chest and shoulder and told not to lift weights for 2ish months and that’s IF I did my PT exercises AND remembered to ice it AND didn’t use it much. As in my right arm. And I am right handed. And stubborn. And a do-er.
Flash forward to my confessional.
Sunday before last found me at church, in my sling, and with a just discovered hole in the side seam of my dress. Scott was able to find me a safety pin and I took off by myself to the bathroom with a plan of taking my dress off, pinning it, and putting it back on – all with 1.5 arms.
A very kind-hearted soul ran into me in the hallway and asked about my arm and where I was off to. She thoughtfully didn’t mention the pity sheen of tears in my eyes and offered to help me pin my dress. And what did I do? I said – That’s okay, I think I’ve got it.
This woman is no dummy and she knew I didn’t have it, so she gently asked again if she could help. And, get this – again I said I could do it myself! Seriously? I’m one armed-half crying – but, by God, I’ve got it!
Once more she offered her help and FINALLY it clicked that September was the actual Month of Asking For Help for Pete’s sake! FINALLY I said yes.
So… all that to say, this experiment in getting better at asking for help (not a strength of Type As) is still a major work in progress. Basically this month I learned that (as suspected) I am in fact absolutely horrible at it. I love, love, love to help others and I recognize that it is their gift to me to be allowed to help as it builds deeper connections and truly feeds my soul! So, why would I deny them the same gift?
Erm. Because I am so very stubborn when it comes to feeling like I can handle things myself. Because I can. But not as well as being cared for and loved up by others through the act of their helping me. Working on it… working on it…