My Personal GPS

It’s not been a very good couple-o-weeks here in LaChapelle Land.

First, there was the back pain. Then, just as that was working itself out, I did something stupid and worked it back in.

Then on Friday, I got bitten—or clawed—by a small dog. It was being walked by a 12-year old who didn’t have a good grasp on the leash. When I’d already passed them on the sidewalk, the dog whipped around and did something nasty to my leg.

First, the pain, then the blood, then the mayhem.

Long story a little less long, the next day I made my way to a drugstore mini-clinic. Had the 2-inch long tear washed and steri-stripped; got a tetanus shot and script for antibiotics; then went home with instructions on how to clean and dress the wound until it—hopefully—closes.

Over the last several days of tending to the back and the wound, I’ve become a bit cranky. Like my father, I don’t do pain well, especially when caring for one injury aggravates the other. And when together they take up so damn much time.

What to do, then, other than take the Alleve and the antibiotic, wash the wound and ice the back, try and minimize the pain from each, and seek advice from the proper professionals?

Easy: along with changing the back patches and the wound dressings, I need to change my attitude. OK, not so easy. But the "Woe is me" internal chatter only keeps me in the woe.

What helps, not surprisingly, is meditating: lying still or walking, I slow down my breathing and with each breath, repeat a word that calms me. This practice, I’m hoping, will also calm the pain. Or at least distract me from it.

The three words I’ve been using—my personal GPS—are gratitude; patience; and serenity. Each in its own way helps remind me what’s needed to change my attitude.

Well, that, and a nice cold glass of Harp at my local sports bar. (We love you, Javy.)