Fuck It I'm 50

Today was a hello, (hello kitty Leo) to a bit of my old self; a self I might not have glimpsed for years.

This old Lise was the Lise of hope and expectation; the new twist is it’s the Lise of hope and thankfulness.

Boy that sound corny, but I swear it’s true.

How did I know this? Well first of all I am feeling better. I have a drive forward as I do what I need to do, even getting my blood drawn, all nine viles, opps I mean vials, of it for the neurologist who I do not trust, like, or think is right in his diagnosis or summary of me as a person. I have decided to see him once more and let him try to prove to me that I had a stroke, but I do not think so, it was my body in revolt in much more tangible ways that his empirical mind and crappy attitude could never see.

With that said, part of my buoyancy is having seen the good witches of my recovery today. My PT was honestly happy at my recovery, and I am about ¾ back and have the mental and pain space to address the original problem I went to her for, my RIGHT hand, that is still injured, but got eclipsed by my palsied left hand. Having anyone in the medical system see you as a whole person and really want to help you is an amazing and wonderful feeling.

And I have two of them.

Next I got to go to my main doctor across town: not only my doc, but my guru and mother confessor, the lovely MA, and she too was beyond happy with my rapid recovery, (btw, I am typing with two full hands!!!), and I went on to tattle on the dark neurologist, the one with the awful bedside manner, and even worse insistence on bad prognosis…she took my blood pressure and it’s fine. What the fuck, he wanted to slap me on high blood pressure medication without knowing me, and he was WRONG, and I told him he was wrong, and thank the big universal thing that may be out there, and all my Jewish and obstinate Norwegian ancestors who have given me indignation and balls.

And then I came home and did all the things I am not meant to do anymore-sitting at a shitty desk, not taking breaks, not getting exercise, eating salty foods, not spending enough time with Lefty, and then running off to a 4pm meeting followed by a weird and wonderful presentation in San Jose at a makeup school where we are recruiting free talented makeup work for the film I am producing.

This is how bereft my downtime life is—going to Daly City for a meeting, and then going to San Jose for this funny little, but oh so useful networking, made me feel like I was on a road trip. I got that feeling of being in unknown places, almost wanted to eat on the road junk food, but then got the most royal stomach aches of recent times just thinking about it.

So I stopped at the gas station, used the restroom, filled up the car and moved on.

Maybe this is the answer to everything. Feel your body, respond, and carry on.

I have to think about this.

Just had a thought.

The one hour plus I have taken for this, my dear blog, nearly everyday for almost a year I could have spent on: exercise, my relationship, learning to cook fish, doing my taxes, meditating-(don’t laugh, it has been prescribed to me and my monkey mind), art making, sleeping, clearing out my garage, making more movies—

My hunch is the body first…I do all of the above compulsively, so, as my Grandma Swenson said, according to m Dad, put your health first.

What a good idea.