When in Rome II

I must have been holding my breath from the time we decided on our route to the time we were finally on the plane, seatbelt fastened, tray table in the upright and locked position. The sigh of relief  I exhaled had enough gale force to get any plane off the ground.

Apparently, breath holding burns lots of calories. That and the thousands of steps I logged pacing through the terminal, waiting. What is it about being locked in the cabin of a plane that causes ravenous hunger. By the time the flight attendants came through with the food service carts, my ghrelin level was through the roof catapulting my planned fast out the window.  I’ll just eat the protein, I reasoned. That and one glass of wine which was, to my surprise, free.

I did manage to stay well-hydrated with water though.  “Eight ounces for every one hour of flight time,” said the forcibly obliging attendant who filled my glass for the fifth time only two hours in. I felt sorry for the person next to me whose gear I had to climb over to get to the lavatory, practically rappelling down her overstuffed backpack which clearly did not fit underneath the seat in front of her.   I would have waited until she got up. Evidently, she had a much larger bladder capacity.

The flight was smooth. Thankfully no turbulence and more importantly, no medical emergencies. I let out another huge sigh of relief as Elena and I de-planed in Amsterdam. We stowed our bags in the airport storage area and jumped on public transport to explore the city for a few hours. It was great to breathe fresh air, see the sun, and get into the rhythm of Holland time, nine hours ahead of Oregon.

Another train, plane, and taxi ride later and we were safely checked into our hotel in Ibiza.  Despite our travel fatigue, the excitement of being on an exotic island in the Mediterranean  drove us onward. After a refreshing shower and some clean clothes, we set off to explore the small island, a favorite holiday spot for many Europeans.  

Our dinner was late but exquisite, not because it was anything fancy, but because it was so spontaneous. We stumbled upon the Jungle Bistro having chosen to walk up a side street away from the bright lights of the main drag.  A group of musicians sat in folding chairs practicing their music outside a beautiful church adjacent to the restaurant. We found an empty table and ordered tapas. Elena chatted with the restaurant owner as if they were old friends. I watched her admiringly, taking it all in, the heat and humidity of the evening whisked away by a refreshing Mediterranean breeze, the relaxed harmony of the music sung and played by people who probably had lived in the area for years, the delicious aroma of herbs and spices wafting from the tapas, and my beautiful daughter so at ease in her own skin.

I was impressed with how well Elena communicated both in speaking and understanding the Spanish language. I was impressed with how well she navigated getting us effortlessly from one location to another. I was impressed with how comfortable she was in a place completely foreign to her before today, meeting new people and doing new things, adopting a new culture without hesitation. I tried to follow her lead and not look like a fish out of water.

“Let’s get some gelato,” she suggested when we had finished our meal. And we did.

Back at the hotel, I had one more responsibility to take care of before I could end my day: check my email. I logged onto my computer to tend to patient needs only to find out that I could not log on. The EMR that I used detected I was in a foreign country and its fire wall would not let me sign on. A million what if’s flooded my mind and drowned out the joy from the day. The ultimate question was what if I disappointed the people who were depending on me because of a detail I had not considered.

I let out a string of expletives that would have impressed any sailor.  Elena was wisely silent, knowing any comment would just make matters worse.

I quickly emailed IT support. The reply was immediate. I only had to download a VPN app for additional protection from any hackers, only $14.95/mo. Twenty tense minutes and a new password later, I was back in business answering emails and refilling prescriptions as if nothing ever happened.

The adrenaline rush gave me the energy I needed to push through my problem but then left me tired and wired. By this time Elena was fast asleep and I lay staring at the ceiling. My eyes refused to close.

“What do you think you are doing?” a familiar voice questioned.

“Uhm. I’m just trying to go to sleep here.”

“Oh no you don’t, Little Missy.  You have some ‘splaining to do,” My inner critic was paying me a one AM visit, pencil sharpened and clipboard in hand, tallying up the many mistakes and missteps from the day.

I knew exactly where the conversation was headed. I had broken every food rule I created for myself. I did not stick to my fast. I did not stick to my eating schedule. I did not have enough protein. Or vegetables. I ate late. And I ate dessert on the first day of my vacation. Utter failure. My inner critic seemed to be gloating and she was not even through half her list.

“But I walked a lot,” I pleaded.

“You hardly kept up with your daughter. No wonder you got a B+ in 9th grade gym class. Remember your dad had to petition to have it changed. You’re a fake valedictorian. And you probably gained ten pounds. But we can’t know that because you don’t have a scale.”

“Hey, that’s a low blow!” I protested. What does 9th grade have to do with today. Wait a minute! Why are you even here? I thought I fired you!”

“You tried, but the girl you hired to replace me is sleeping on the job. Look at her! I can’t let you backslide. I am here to protect you!”

And it was true. The coach I hired to replace my inner critic was sleeping like a baby.

I nudged her awake. “Hey, how can you sleep at a time like this We are having a major crisis here.”

She yawned and took a deep relaxing breath, not opening her eyes. “I am sleeping,” she said calmly , “because you just had one of your best days ever!”

“I did?” I stared inquisitively.

“Yes, you did,” she replied, fluffing her pillow. “You navigated a long journey across the pond, you embraced spontaneity, you enjoyed new sights, sounds, and smells, you met new and interesting people, you pivoted and problem solved, you walked your butt off, and most importantly you shared it all with your lovely daughter who really wants you to relax and have a good time.

“And tomorrow you are going to get up and have another grand adventure. So get some sleep and practice that healthy, slow down, Mediterranean lifestyle you have been preaching about.” And she buried her head deep in the pillow and nodded off. “What a lovely day,” she murmured.

“But how do I do that?”

“No buts, only ands…” The pillow was talking now. “Take a deep breath and thank Ms. Critic for her well-intentioned contribution AND let her know you are trying something new. Breathe. Again.Through your nose. You haven’t fired her. You simply reassigned her. “Again,” the pillow coached.

And I thought about the Apostle Paul and his admonition to take every thought captive. I knew that my thoughts were producing chemicals. Positive thoughts, positive chemicals. Negative thoughts, negative chemicals. No wonder our creator encourages us not to be anxious. “Do not worry, saying what shall we eat or what shall we drink. For your heavenly father knows you need all these things.”

A healthy lifestyle is about so much more than eating right and exercise. It’s about choosing to be present, being at peace in the present, seeking first things first, discerning mountains from molehills, enjoying the people you are with, and seeing that life is so, so good.

One Reply to “When in Rome II”

  1. Julie
    Thank you for this blog and your willingness to share your struggles and solutions. I love your honesty and I am so grateful for to know I’m not alone in the battle!

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