… or, how to regain neuroendocrine control of body homeostasis.
As any gentle Swedish Death Cleaner will tell you, cancer provides an ongoing amount of embodied learning that’s hard to obtain any other way. It has provided me with post-doctoral levels of hands-on (or more accurately whole-body-on) direct experience of how my stress hormone levels fluctuate wildly throughout any day. Take last Friday for example.
Plumbing: That Little Thing Between The Middle Ages and Mortality
It was late afternoon when my wife walked into my home office. Her face clearly signaled bad news. We live out in the country on an offshore island (Whidbey). Skilled tradesmen are hard to find, and when you can actually get one to make a service call, you have to pay upfront or indenture your first born before they’ll start working. Finding plumbers is especially challenging. It took two years to find someone to replace the mixing valve in our second bathroom.
“We don’t seem to have any water pressure.”
No water pressure means … plumbing. Plumbing means blood pressure and stress hormones skyrocketing. Especially, since it most likely involves our well which we share with two other households, only adding to the stress.
Terrain – Pull Up! Terrain – Pull Up!
The good news is, since deeply immersing myself in Air Disasters investigations on Youtube during my cancer treatment recovery, my wife and I have adopted the Cockpit Resource Management Model for our marriage. One of us will designate themselves as the “Pilot Flying”; the other will then be “Pilot Monitoring.” Either can announce a switch at any time, which the other acknowledges.
Pilot Monitoring – me – now needed to head out to the well house and assess what was going on. After looking over all the “instruments” all I could offer was: time to call a well guy. I heard our regular guy had retired – he was pretty old and slow the last time we called him – so we didn’t even bother calling this time. We came up with a list of a dozen other plumbers and well drillers to call, most of them on the mainland. Finally, we got a well guy to actually answer the phone in Sedro-Woolley, two hours away. Nevertheless, he was willing to troubleshoot with me and together we determined that the culprit was most likely the pump pressure switch. It was rusty and corroded and had probably been originally installed 25 years earlier.
I removed the pressure switch (after watching a number of Youtube videos) and, with the old switch in hand, off to the hardware store with it went Pilot Flying. She returned. I installed the new switch. Nothing happened. No water.
Unfreeze. Flow. Fix.
During all this I’m acutely aware that my stress hormones are oscillating between the yellow zone and the red zone. I know they’re in the red zone when my brain literally can’t think what to do next (the blank page will often do that to writers; most human enterprises inevitably come with their own red zone catalysts). Where is CRISPR to help connect to the heart when stress is kicking my ass?
Cognitively I know there’s no actual bear or gunman in the house, and that at some point in time, in some way, at some financial cost, the problem will get fixed. That awareness alone though – just like getting treated for cancer – didn’t work to permanently return my stress hormone levels to baseline. What did? Ultimately, it took getting the water flowing again. Just like being declared cancer-free did.
Through the ordeal, I was actively doing my best to be an Adrenal Ninja. Here are 10 stress management options that helped me to at least somewhat temporarily address the distress. There’s no guarantee they will work for you. Nevertheless:
1 I took a bunch of 5 gallon water bottles over to our local dog park and filled them from the public well there for each household’s interim use.
2 My wife went to Costco-America and stocked everyone up on bottled water.
3 I asked a friend to come over and put fresh eyes on the problem.
4 I went for extra walks the four days the water was off.
5 I took extra rides on the At-i-van (lorazepam) to insure 8 solid hours of sleep.
6 So as not to wear out our welcome, we contacted several different friends and arranged times to shower.
7 I read Rumi.
8 In an effort to combat the stress-generated feeling of helplessness, I watched several dozen relevant Youtube videos.
9 I kept the additional households in the loop daily and let them know I was available for their input.
10 As often as I could think to, I deliberately breathed a Physiological Sigh.
Late breaking bonus: 11. I read this blog post on resilience that happened to show up in the middle of this unplanned and unwanted adventure.
All’s Well that Ends Well
It turned out our well guy wasn’t retired as I had been led to believe. We called. He came out within the hour, replaced a fried capacitor in the control box, charged $200 and was done. The minute he pulled his truck into our driveway – a “competent protector” answering The Big Brain Question – I could feel the stress hormones plummeting, to the point where I suddenly had creative energy enough to sit down and craft this blog post!