In the Before Times (before hospital, that is. Not before COVID. It’s funny how the latter has gone from huge in my mind to almost an afterthought. That’s not this post, though, so I’ll leave it there for now), I was very much an all-or-nothing person. Well, let’s back that up even further. Before I took taiji, I bought into the idea of ‘no pain, no gain’. Kind of. I didn’t believe that when it came to physical pain, but pushing myself mentally/emotionally? Yeah, I did that on the regular. I didn’t push my body as much, but that was only because I was lazy. I did mess with my sleep quite a bit, but that was because my sleep sucked. I wasn’t doing it on purpose; in fact, I was trying to make it better. But that did mean I didn’t sleep much or well on most nights, which contributed to my body feeling like shit.
When I was in the hospital, sleep was hard to come by because they took my vitals every four hours or so. Despite that, I was zonked out hard whenever I did manage to fall asleep. I had powerful sedation medication and narcotics coursing through my veins so I’m sure that’s part of the reason I was able to sleep so much in the hospital.
It has continued now that I’m home, however. The most shocking part is that I’m in bed by 10 p.m., 10:30 p.m. at the latest and up by 6 a.m. I get a solid 7 1/2 to 8 hours a night, only waking up once to pee. This is unheard of for me, but I’m not looking a gift horse in the mouth. At first, I was unnerved by my sleeping schedule, but the early morning is a lot like the late, late evening if I squint. Nobody is up and it’s dark outside. There is a chill in the still air and it’s as if I’m the only person awake in the world. Mentally, I still prefer going to bed at this time than getting up, but I’ll take what I can get.
It’s funny, though, how quickly the brain can adapt something into being the norm. I’ve struggled with sleep issues all my life and now, they’re gone in the blink of an eye. Now, it’s just normal for me, and I rarely think about it. It’s the same with, well, the whole experience. I woke up from nothingness, mad, disoriented, and scared. My brother explained everything to me (along with the docs, of course, but I mostly remember my brother’s explanation) and once I absorbed the news, I rarely thought about it again. Or rather, when I did think about it, it was more in the vein of, “Huh. That’s a thing that happened to me.”
When I stop and really think about it, it’s unnerving. I couldn’t breathe so I called 9-1-1. I managed to unlock the front door before passing out on the floor. I was rushed to the hospital after the cops bagged me (oxygen) and I suffered two cardiac arrests on the way. The EMTs had to shock my heart and jab me with an EPI pen, twice. I mean, they had to do both twice because my heart stopped twice. Oh, and I had a stroke sometime in there as well. I’m not sure when, but it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. Oh, and this all started with non-COVID-related pneumonia. That, by the way, is the main culprit in this whole mess. My heart doc says my heart is fine. He is monitoring it, but he emphasized it was the pneumonia that caused all the problems.
I came back with a bang and everyone was astounded. I was supposed to need months of rehab if I woke up at all–and that was a big if. My family was warned that if I came back, the damage might be severe. Instead, I had a mild tremor in the middle finger of my left hand, my vision was blurry, and my stamina was crap. Other than that, though, I was pretty much the same as before the hospital. Oh, wait. I also had small issues with my short-term memory (in part because of the drugs), but the biggest issue was my stamina. Is my stamina.
When I went home from the hospital two weeks after I went in, I pegged my stamina at about 10%. It was so frustrating because the majority of my taiji routine are the weapons forms. The second day I was home, I tried the Sword Form (right side) with my steel sword and was exhausted after three movements (what we used to call postures). That was just one form–and I barely even started. Normally, I can do a whole Sword Form (left or right side), one row of the Saber Form (both sides), a Karambit Form (all but the last row) and the whole Double Saber Form (right side). I do other things on other days, but this is a typical Wednesday for me. It was shocking to be instantly tired after three movements.
A few days ago, I was able to do half a Sword Form (right side) with my beloved steel sword, a little more than four weeks home. I started with a toy wooden sword before graduating to a regular wooden sword and now I’m back to my steel sword. Oh, and I can do a whole Sword Form (right side, but I’m sure I can do the left side as well) without being exhausted. I’m pleasantly tired at the end, but not perspiring heavily. That’s the hard stop in taiji–if you’re sweating profusely. If you’re lightly sweating, then you can proceed with caution.
I used my wooden saber today to do one row, but it was tedious. I might go back to the escrima sticks to do the whole form before moving onto the regular wooden saber. As for the double sabers, I’m using the escrima sticks for that as well, but occasionally checking in with the steel double sabers. I’m not touching the karambit, the deerhorn knives, or the cane for now. Or the spear/staff. I’m not sure this ins the best way to practice, but I’m doing the two that I learned first (sword and saber) and the one that is my favorite (double sabers).
I used to spend a half hour to forty-five minutes on the weapons before I went into the hospital. Now, barely eking out five minutes, well, more like seven or eight since I can do the full Sword Form, is panful to me. But I know I can’t push myself or I might relapse. In fact, my body refuses to let me do more than it’s comfortable doing. The sheer exhaustion that fills me when I go past the point of pleasantly tired is immediate and absolute.
It’s a good thing that my body is clear about its limits. It’s makes it easier for me to not push it too far. It’s my nature (and my family creed) to go as hard as possible until you drop. Normally, that’s a psychological thing for me, but sometimes, it crosses over into the physical. That was more a thing before I started taiji, though. I suffered through two eating disorders during which I pushed my body well past its limit.
Now, I’m trying to find the balance between pushing myself to improve bit by bit and listening to my body when it says not today. The last time I tried to do more than my body was comfortable doing, it shut down for the rest of the day. I could still move, but I could barely talk and my gait was very slow. That was four or five days ago and I’m still a bit low energy because of it. It’s a lesson well learned, one that pairs well with taiji.