Dr Doolittle 

(and the pushmi-pullyu of recovery) 

Life is precious. I take a moment.

Breathing in, I am aware of my in-breath, breathing out, I am aware of my out-breath. My heart paces on, and I am grateful. These steady womb rhythms remind me that I am safe and held – in a world that feels so rocked and racked with pain –  where fear and uncertainty could crush the very colour out of life. 

Yet here, October boldly flaunts her feast of colour with the rhythm of the season. Painted skies, rich warm colours of leaves turning, ready to let go. Only this week, our thick green bed of nasturtium leaves flowered forth into a surprise profusion of autumnal joy. We had thought they weren’t going to bloom this year, but they did, in their own time and in style! 

Indoors the summer brights give way to the softer yellow, rust and orange tones and textures flowing through our home, cosseting us in coziness. It’s so tempting to just hunker down inside. But I am aware that my body feels more stable, little by little, and I have things to teach it. 

So this past week, I have been out and about a bit. This is a big deal for me after many months at home (or in hospital). Slowly I am trying to recondition my body (and mind) from a few years of living trapped in its sedentary cell existence into a more expansive experience. I tire easily and it’s delicate work but it feels good. A few locations we love but that held painful memories of heart symptoms  – literally our ‘old haunts’ – are being revisited. I am doing this in a titrated, quiet way. No busy shops or venues yet! I am gathering corrective experiences, reintroducing the simple joys of outdoor life, previously marred and scarred by difficult cardiac events. 

It would be easy to be greedy and to flood my system by pushing too hard and fast doing the things I’ve missed so much. That was my natural way of being for much of my life after all. But that doesn’t work for me nowadays. I am aware of this and so treat my body in a gentle respectful way so as to ease it in and build that sense of safety and trust again, piece by piece. 

Phrases like ‘bouncing the boundaries’ and ‘widening the window of tolerance’ are catchy ways to describe this gradual rehabituation process. It’s not linear either, as anyone who suffers with heart issues or chronic pain will understand. Setbacks are not failures, but simply a reminder that slow living is ok. In a culture where achieving and relentless activity can be seen as markers of a successful life, I have learned (the hard way) to consciously uncouple from this mindset and allow myself to be and do ‘enough’ just as I am and feel able. 

Harking back to the 1970s popular kids TV programme Play School, I recognise different ‘windows’ as I navigate my way. One of my ‘windows’ is timing. I have found that going out late morning works best, and being home again in time for lunch. By afternoon my energy has dipped significantly and I need a rest which involves a lie down and sensory switch off. Knowing this rhythm and moving with it is most supportive to my system’s recovery. 

Another ‘window’ is terrain. I have done a few very short strolls. I need to avoid any inclines as they are too much for me physically at the moment. Knowing this helps, and working within my capacity allows it to extend incrementally. Weather is yet another ‘window’. Windy days are more of a challenge for me.

My cardiac nurse always reminds me to ‘be kind to myself’ and to ‘give myself credit’ after all I’ve been through. These are simple phrases but they hold so much wisdom towards aiding recovery. It’s often far easier to show kindness and encouragement to others than to oneself. Thankfully, she has said these words often enough to me that they are weaving into my way of being, neutralising my inclination to be harsh and to judge myself when evidence of recovery seems lacking or low. 

It feels so good to get outdoors beyond my garden and to enjoy the beauty of nature we are so privileged to have close at hand in this part of Scotland. It feels like progress too.  

Life truly is precious and colourful and I am so grateful for the safety we can enjoy in this little corner of the world in these times. I breathe this in. And I will never take such freedom for granted. 

******