by Stella Salmen

Created on: March 20, 2010

I went to the doctor, again, because I wasn’t feeling any better. I was tired. My joints ached. The cough wasn’t clearing up, and I am convinced that I am going to get cancer due to the smoking I did when I was a teen. My periods have become “irregular” and I am now officially “premenopausal”. I still have adult acne, and now I am spouting whiskers.

The doctor reviewed my thick file, and looked at me with serious eyes. “Uh oh”, I thought, “Here comes the bad news. I have 6 months to live. I have an incurable disease. I had better get my affairs in order.”

“You are very stressed.” he said. “I am worried that all your symptoms stem from that issue. You are constantly worried, and despite your 5 visits in six months, and that all your tests have come back as negative, you are still feeling so unwell. I want you to try meditation and incorporate relaxation techniques into your daily routine.” 

 “Can you prescribe something to make the stress go away?”

I don’t see the need for that yet.” He responded

“Yet?” I asked. “What do you mean, ‘Yet’”?

“Well,” said the doctor, “your blood pressure is still below the danger zone, and you don’t complain of chronic insomnia, so I think that, for now, you should just try the meditation I recommended. The nurse has a list of books that you might find helpful. Try my suggestion and come back to see me in a month for a follow-up.”

So, off I went, recommended book list in hand, to try to de-stress. 

That night I started. Meditation. Sit in the lotus position. A lot like “Indian style”, but with your legs crossed UP instead of under. Are they serious? With my arthritis? I tried anyway, and found myself sweating and cussing. This was definitely not reducing my stress. OK, drop that idea. Find a nice comfy chair and lean back. That is one I can do, so I did.

Now, light a candle. Hmm… the only candles I have on hand are the expensive hand-dipped candles I got at the craft fair 5 years ago, and have never had occasion to light. I mean, for what I paid for them, it had better be important. I couldn’t just burn them for the sake of burning them. No. That would cause more stress as I saw my money just go up in smoke and drip down the candle holders.

OK. Get up and get in the car. Drive to the dollar store and but some cheap pillar

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