the importance of the good pyjamas

July 07, 2014

packing

Up until now, my heart surgery has mostly been ‘That Thing Happening Later This Year’. But its tomorrow.

Super early in the morning, we’ll drive to the Harley Street Heart Clinic. A tiny team of (presumably, hopefully) very well-trained and knowledgeable peeps, who deeply value humans and their hearts, will carefully cauterise the scar tissue from my childhood surgery. They will also check out what the deal is with my wrongly-plumbed pulmonary vein – this may mean another bigger surgery in the next few months.

So yeah. Just an average Tuesday where I abdicate absolute control of my body, and entrust my life to a group of complete strangers.

And because I am fascinated by how our thoughts create our reality, I’ve been paying close attention to mine.

I know that if I let myself just go ahead and think about this situation, I would get all tangled up in knots of fear and anxiety. I would start to argue with reality (which always creates suffering) and slide quickly into victim mode (which always creates powerlessness). Without supervision, my thoughts can’t wait to pull on their crazypants and very quickly, things get real ugly in there *taps head*.

So I have been experimenting with something new. I’ve been trying to love this situation – to wrap my enormous figurative heart around my literal one and see what happened.

I’ve been choosing to think thoughts like:

  • This is happening for me – this is about healing.
  • I love my life and I want to extend it for as long as possible.
  • Now is the perfect time for this to happen.
  • I am so lucky to be alive right now, when there is proper science and aces technology to fix this.

I still woke up this morning with rocks in my belly. But the feary anxious thoughts are quieter and more proportionate.

And through the process of investigating the cause of my dicky ticker, I’ve been very present. For many conversations with doctors using big fancy complicated words, for the poking and proding and being felt up by several people who are not my husband. I’ve asked my cardiologist to draw several pictures so I could understand what was happening. And I have been able to stay with what is known and happening right now, rather than leap to some catastrophic uncertain outcome.

More than anything, by trying to love this process I’ve been able to take care of me. Rather than just worry, I have been able to sit and meditate on what a successful, easy surgery would feel like. And when I come home in a few days I can recover peacefully: our fridge is stocked, podcasts are downloaded, there is a stack of old movies on Tivo, and another of books on my bedside table.

And I’ve bought tiny nurses hats for Rex and Badger.

So there is nothing left for me to do, but pack my good pyjamas. And pray.

See you on the other side 🙂

An extended version of this post was published by the kind folks at Elephant Journal.

Leave a reply

25 Responses to “the importance of the good pyjamas”

  1. Celia says:

    Lots of healing vibes for you VvvvvvvvVvvvvvvvvv

  2. Liz says:

    Love, love, love you!

  3. shauna says:

    So much love for you, Sas. Love your grace and wisdom and all-round awesomeness 🙂

  4. Rita says:

    A newcomer to your blog, I’m glad this post is my first read. What a beautiful manner to approach what, for any other, would be a frightening, anxiety-ridden, depressive event. Beautiful, indeed. Sending light and healing to you and your heart.

  5. <3 happy healthy heart love coming your way!

  6. Bex says:

    Don’t sweat the small stuff gorgeous girl……there is much life, love and adventures ahead. Hope the furs and Mr P make fantastic nurses – take care of you xxx

  7. Angie says:

    You are the ace of hearts!

  8. Marion says:

    See you on the other side. So how soon can you have visitors??
    Lots of love, Marion xx

  9. Bella says:

    Sending much love.
    xo

  10. Jo says:

    Yep I’m with Lisa. All is well. Including you and your heart. I love you. xxx

  11. Roxanne says:

    Prayers and thoughts are with you.

  12. sent you a voice message, but saying it here, too. That heart of yours is golden, and I’m envisioning it in a great big ball of loving light. All will be well. Because it already IS. Love you so very much.

  13. Pema says:

    My friend, in her successful recovery from leukemia, would lie in bed and imagine her beloved terrier, Jack, was cruising through her bloodstream eating up the bad blood cells like Pac Man. I love that Rex and Badger have their nursing hats, and that you have your healthy hopeful steadying thoughts, magnified by a beautiful chorus of them here. Adding mine too, thought-singing you and Mr P through.
    With love,
    Pema

  14. Nikki says:

    Best wishes, Sas. We’re all rooting for you!

  15. Bridget Pilloud says:

    Here’s to some awesome surgeons and loving nurses, and a comfortable, peaceful recovery! Much love from Oregon!

  16. Becky says:

    Best of luck tomorrow, Sas! And a I’ll be crossing my fingers & thinking happy thoughts for a speedy recovery, too!

  17. I just saw your FB post and wanted to send the very best wishes. After reading your blog, I wanted to say my first, well, almost first thought this morning was about how easily I could think love toward an imperfectly working body part (so many to choose from). The notion of sending love, to ourselves, to others, to the world still seems a well-kept secret, yet I believe, I know, it makes a difference. Quieting our own chattering minds and their counter-productive ways is an enormous task. I have come to find, in all things, there is always a bigger (brighter) picture than the one we’ve latched onto. You are already doing well. And the tiny nurse hats can only make it better. My very best to you. xo

  18. Becki says:

    Dear Sas – my heart sister –
    My thoughts are with you today, tomorrow, and throughout your recovery. I know in my heart that your heart will be well. Keep positive.

    Much love,
    Becki x

  19. Kirsten says:

    Dearest Sas,

    Surgery is scary. Your pyjamas rock :-). Your attitude is awesome. I am sending you much love and luck. Somehow,I am certain that your enormous heart will pull you through with flying colours.

    See you on the other side!

  20. Gem says:

    Hi Sas,
    Just a little message to send you a big hug and wish you well for tomorrow.
    You’re a strong and brave lady, and I just know you’ll come through this even stronger. x
    It sounds like you’re in excellent hands, so just take it easy and know we’re all thinking of you, and looking forward to hearing from you when you’ve healed up.
    Lots of love, light and shiny thoughts,
    Gem xxx
    P.S: Love the jim jams! 🙂

  21. Christine says:

    always a reader, rarely a commenter……I am sending you positive, healing thoughts from Boston to a woman with a beautiful heart. won’t the docs be lucky to see how magnificent it really is!
    many tender hugs
    Christine

  22. Emmy says:

    Wishing you all the very best for tomorrow Sas, keep those good thoughts coming. I shall be sending positive thoughts your way & hope that you have an ease filled recovery.

    I hope Rex & Badger make the best nurses.

    Much love & hugs 🙂

  23. elizabeth says:

    just sent you an email but want to cover all the bases as I LOVE you so so so much and am sending biggest healing energies to that kindest (albeit wonky) heart of yours !!!!!!

  24. Dawn says:

    I have been following your blog for only a short while and I don’t think I have made a comment yet. This is as good a time as any to rectify that (seeing as how you probably won’t read this until several days into your beautiful recovery time). I just wanted you to know, I am sending you love and light and many powerful positive thoughts to go right along side your own. You have designed an exciting journey full of tales to tell, no? lol
    Speedy recovery and special {{hugs}}
    Peace~
    Dawn