Stress and Affirmations

Yesterday, moments after waking, my heart starting flailing around like a bird trying to beat its way out of a box. After ten long minutes, laying there in the five a.m. gloom, breathing deep and waiting for my pump to shift back into gear, I decided I had to go to the ER. I brushed my teeth, then leaned over my sweetheart to deliver the news.

"Honey," I whispered. He tried to crack one eyelid. Sleepy. Very sleepy.

"Don't freak out," I said. Both eyes sprang open wide. "I need you to take me to the emergency room." He sat up and immediately, but quietly, freaked out.

It's called atrial fibrillation, which means the small valves on the top of my heart lost the beat they learned when I was an embryo, and started slam-dancing around to little circulatory effect--quivering, was the term my ER doc used.

I'm much better now, after meds to remind my little atrium the trick of synchronicity. My doctor has ordered me off caffeine, and wants me to find more effective ways of dealing with stress. Let's see: my youngest son is moving from high school dependent to college/job/I can do as I please; I am gone from home for almost 11 hours a day for work; and I am negotiating the unfamiliar waters of "approaching Stanford."

To ice the stress cake, my husband's ex-wife has decided that what my husband paid in child support for ten years wasn't okay after all (although they had full agreement at the time.) Now (even though their daughter is almost 20 years old) the ex feels she should get a fat arrears check. Said fat check falling into the "let's squeeze blood from a turnip" category.

So I am to replace my looming worries in the watches of the night with an affirmation, something along the lines of: "My heart is at perfect peace," or "Everything will work out all right." Not to be confused with my former mantra: "I hope that mercenary harpy develops bleeding piles."

I think I'll go have a cup of chamomile tea.

The Good Life

An hour-and-a-half up the road from my home, and look where I got to have a picnic with my husband. This is Bald Hills, an area above the redwood forest filled with natural meadow land created in large part by fires (lightening-caused, and human-caused). The view is panoramic here, and this picture is of the yearly bloom of purple lupin. This shot was taken about a week after the flowers were in their reproductive prime, but the hills were breathtaking. Birdsong and a bit of wind were the only sounds. I'm making this a desktop for my computer, and it will be one of many photos to sustain me through my time in Stanford-land.

Summer Jobs

This is the first time I've ever gone out looking specifically for a summer job. Usually I am concerned mostly with the perks of job longevity: how soon do benefits kick in, pay raise increments, health insurance. The summer job is all about just making some money until school starts in the fall, and trying to save some of it.

I think I found the perfect summer job. For 12 years I've backpacked into Redwood Creek, in the Redwood National Park (this photo is from one summer trip.) This year I have a job at the National Park visitors' center, showing people where to hike, where to find the biggest and most beautiful old-growth redwood trees, and selling them books that fit their outdoor interests. In the past few days I've gotten to talk with visitors from Germany, France, Japan, Korea, China, South America, England, Ireland, Scotland, and from all over the United States.

If you're travelling into beautiful coastal northern California this summer, come see me at the Kuchel Visitor Center just south of Orick, and I'll show you how to get to the Lady Bird Johnson Grove and the Newton B. Drury Scenic Bypass.

Next step to Stanford: send off financial and scholarship paperwork, and find out if any of my community college credits work for my major course work. Find out what kind of Stanford math class I have to take. Try not to quail in fear at the previous statement.

Next Stop: Stanford

Surely someone is about to wake me, but I'm going to hang out in this amazing dream state as long as I can!
Three weeks ago, I won an incredible scholarship that will finance the remainder of my undergrad degree. Five days ago, I was accepted to Stanford University. Yes, it happens every year to lots of people, but not to ME! I'm a 50 year old re-entry mother of four, who spent 12 years going to community college and working mostly as an administrative assistant. Now I'm going to Stanford, and it is completely paid for. For the past five months I have visualized myself being accepted; I would look at this picture, put my finger on the chair, and say, "My butt HERE." And now it's happened.
Now that the dream has materialized, I have to figure out how this all works--it was just theory before! My wonderful husband is staying home to hold down the fort while I chase the white rabbit. He'll be a loooong 7 hours away, so time together will be at a premium, especially with gas at damn near $4.00 a gallon.

My heartfelt urging to any reader: dream the big dreams, work your ass off, and never, never, NEVER give up.