Just say ommmmmmmmmm…….
For those of you who do not know I have been having some strange head issues lately. (Please try to refrain from the obvious jokes here.) Since Feb. I have had a funny little nervy twitchy thing at my right temple…which at times seems to pack bags and move around to twitch in various places on my face, and, well, head. Very. Annoying. And can lead to a multitude of self-diagnosis(especially if you ever worked as a clinical social worker, or a marketer for hospice-for 7 years-but I digress). So I went for a second opinion this week from a neurologist. (First neurologist…aka Google It Boy…didn’t work out so well. As in MRI shows a strange small mass and he says “hmmmm…not sure. Lets google it.” And then does so. On his computer. In front of me. Yea. You’re fired.) So, Dr. Franco, neurologist or aka clinical psychologist/meditation instructor, saw me this week. Within the first ten minutes he had decided that I am: Type A, perfectionist, driven, demanding, controlling, and assertive. Hmmmmm….can I get a smaller diagnosis for that sir….oh yea….we are here about my head twitches not my personality issues. All of that being said, he decided that part of my issue is that I am stressed and need to relax. Funny, I didn’t FEEL stressed until my head and face started twitching 24/7 for 4 MONTHS STRAIGHT. Insert increased anxiety here. (Not to mention an x-ray of my neck shows that it is completely straight. Where we are evidently suppose to have a curve. The culprit? Stress and tension. Causing the muscles to pull my neck out of alignment. Which will cost $1000.00 and 12 visits to a chiropractor to fix. Insert more anxiety. Good grief.) Sooooo, my neuro/shrink places all of my paperwork on his desk, puts his hands in his lap…and says “Breathe with me.” And he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in, and then breathes out slowly and LOUDLY. (Did I mention that Alex is laying on the FLOOR of the doctor’s office playing with the door during this. He stops and then looks at the doctor like he has two heads.) I, in the meantime, have been taught to respect my elders(he’s at least 65. And c’mon…has to be brilliant right? He’s a NEUROLOGIST for goodness sakes) and I am trying with everything I have not to laugh, or fall off the exam table. Or both. So. I breathe. Evidently too quickly. Because Oh Wise One tells me “No. Too fast. Do it again. Slowly. Deeply.” Oh. Boy. I comply. He seems pleased and tells me that I need to start doing yoga and meditating daily. I want to know if it will stop the twitch. He doesn’t know. Just thinks it will be helpful for my stress. Um….stop the twitch…stops the stress. Damn. I should have been a doctor! J We do discuss a few things, he has a few other theories, which I will not bore you with here. But I leave with orders for an MRI, massage therapy, and meditation. Which leads me to the point of this story. Decide to try my mediation tonight. Haven’t been feeling well, not enough sleep, not enough gym time. All leading to body aches and twitches of some sort. So I decided-“Yoga and Meditation! 8:15 p.m. Sharp. Promptly after children have been put to bed!” I tell husband as he is getting Landon to bed that I am going to the “Big TV room for yoga/meditation and that I am not to be disturbed.” The look on his face was hysterical. He laughs…then says “Good!” Interesting. So……I will set the scene for you. It is raining lightly outside. Perfect relaxation noise! Close the door to room and turn channel on TV to 857 Zen. Perfect slow Asian inspired music begins to play. I dim the lights. Nice. No noise. Decide to go straight to down dog. Ow. Damn. Forgot to warm up. But isn’t yoga kind of a warm up….maybe I should run in place first, then do yoga, then meditate…..ah. Forget it. Move into tree pose. Wobble. Fall. Damn. I guess cussing is not allowed during the relaxation process…should stop. Drop to the floor for cobra and simple stretches. Breathe. In…..annnnnnnd…..ACHOO! I sneeze. Three times. Good Grief. Decide to simply stand, legs straight, head down and place hands on floor. Maybe extra blood flow will stop the twitch. Breathe in…..snot. Running down face. Gross. Not relaxing. Back to floor. Stretch legs. Notice that not only do I need to vacuum but I see two toys under the couch that Alex was missing. Maybe I will just move straight to the meditation, breathing, relaxing part. Criss Cross applesauce my legs(sorry-what my kids call Indian style J ) place hands on legs, breathe in, look at TV-and notice title of new music is Kamasutra Moving. Um……isn’t that only on Skinamax After Dark? Laugh hysterically. Ok. Get serious. Hands on legs. Breathe in. Breathe out. Twitch. Twitch. Breathe in. Breathe out. Twitch. Breathe in..twitchy twitch twitch. OH FOR THE LOVE! I must note here that the “more still” I am the more noticeable the “twitching” is. Thus the reason I try to KILL myself at the gym….I can’t feel the twitching when I am doing enough lunges to set my legs on fire and make me want to throw up. You know…trade one pain for another. Ok. RELAX. Breathing……Breathing……Twitch. Oh hell. I quit. And while I will try to re-visit this meditation thing(I mean….c’mon-he did mention the whole control Type A thing and I WILL conquer and learn to meditate perfectly!) three times a week-I am thinking the order for the massage may be my next path of choice. If I’m gonna twitch I might as well get rubbed while doing it! Maybe I’ll even breathe correctly and just say ommmmmmmmmm. J
