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I recently heard a phrase, "Some years give us answers, other years just raise the questions." This year has been one of the latter for me, as I work my way through a search for answers while struggling to maintain peace of mind around the unknown.
It started after the shoulder operation in May. I noticed a cough that seemed to be more frequent and "gunky" than I had experienced before. I gradually became aware of chronic congestion. I cleared my throat more often, sometimes continuously. My throat was often sore, and my voice hoarse. Social conversation became awkward, and I pulled back from situations that called for talking. Running and other physical activity generated more coughing and clearing than sitting quietly.
Six months, countless hours of web-searching, numerous medical screenings, and advice from diverse practitioners later, I do not have a lot of answers. I am grateful that most life-threatening conditions have been ruled out, but the annoyance remains unsolved. The process of testing less dramatic theories is time-consuming, and far from conclusive.
In the 21st century, I do not expect unanswered questions. I am used to quick fixes-at very least, a pill that relieves symptoms temporarily. I am frustrated by causal theories that are diametrically opposed and testing and treatment options that are mutually exclusive. I am caught in a frenzied search for relief that spins in circles and goes nowhere in particular.
This is a year for asking questions. It is the year when my shoulder screamed for help and continues to rebuild. It is the year when wildfire smoke filled the valley and suffocated our active lives. It is a year when, in one week, I experienced immobilizing back spasm, stabbing foot pain, a burning knee, and a throbbing headache. Two weeks later, it was a head cold and a urinary infection. It is a year of gunk and drip, a year of testing for lung cancer and COPD, food allergies and reflux. It is not (yet) a year of answers.
As I struggle, I suspect that the answers begin with accepting what-is and calming the frenzy. We don't know everything about the body-mind. Even basic functions elude our understanding. We don't have an intrinsic right to feel energetic and healthy all of the time. Part of life's lesson is dealing with the less pleasant and the unknown: "Lord grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, and the wisdom to know..."
I am grateful that, for all the questions, the answers so far are benign. It does not appear as if my next lesson is learning how to die. It may, however, be learning to live joyfully and peacefully with discomfort and uncertainty.
I know I am not alone. I know you share these experiences. How do you deal with them?
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