coumadin kind of love



Welcome to February.  Which of course means we’re getting close to Valentine’s Day.  So let’s talk about…

blood clots.

Blood.  Red.  Heart.  See?  There’s a connection.

Actually, seriously, a friend’s father just discovered a blood clot.  Well, what he discovered was that one thigh was 4 cm in circumference larger than the other.  Wise man that he was, he recognized that wasn’t good and got himself to the doctor’s posthaste.  Thus it was the doctor that found the clot, but I think her Dad scored major points for the assist.  This man is only 58.  And yet, there is the clot, running groin to knee.  And given its size, this is no small concern.  Despite every advancement in medicine, despite the blood thinners and daily injections, what ultimately is the prognosis?


What?  I was rather taken aback.  The real work to deal with the clot is not done by chemicals or arthroscopy.  It is done by the body.  His body simply now needs time to reabsorb the blood. How long is this going to take?  Well, there is no prescribed length of time.  It takes how long it takes.  Every body is different.  Every clot is unique.  There are no predicted parameters.

{Seemingly jumping topics}

This past weekend I was putting the finishing touches on my office by adding a filing cabinet.  Have you priced filing cabinets recently? Sigh.  The beautiful lateral double drawer robin’s egg blue one with a butcher-block top?  Double sigh.  Since dropping a huge chunk of change on a new one wasn’t an option, we (ok, he) climbed up into the attic and pulled down an old 4-drawer industrial metal one.  Two cans of apple green spray paint and a few hours later and voila!  Given that I am no Martha, I was apprehensive of my inaugural foray into refurbishing.  My concerns were mislaid.  I should have placed them on the contents of the cabinet, not its exterior.

What was inside the cabinet?  Think ‘The Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler’.  File upon file of incredible clues, important information, all linking circuitously to events long past. There was a file called ‘great writings’.  Another marked ‘spirituality’.  A third filled with references and recommendations of a girl gone by- and yet still me.  All four drawers were similarly filled.  Some files slid easily from my hands into the recycle bin.  Some went straight to the shredder.  Some have come full circle and will travel from the file labeled ‘parenting’ to those titled ‘parent coaching’.

But the others?  The papers with heartstrings attached?  They were once useful.  May still be meaningful.  Where do they go?  Because right now they are strewn all over the home office.  And the living room floor.  Did I mention the treads of the staircase?  Yes, there too.  Spilling over into parts of the kitchen.  Any horizontal surface, really.

What happens when there is a clot-creating event in our lives?  Once spiritual triage, medical help, and band-aids of food and love are applied, what then?  How long does it take for our lives / minds / hearts to absorb the incident?  How long do we need to carry the emotional paperwork of the past before we can let it go?  These files of events record who were were, but they cannot fully tell us who we are.  We need to make room for now.  Thinning the influence of the past removes the restrictions of who we were and it makes room for who we are becoming.

To keep your heart healthy this Valentine’s Day, take a moment to reflect.  What’s clotting your life?  How burdened is your filing cabinet?  What drawers of your past are ready to be cleaned out?  And what of our children?  Are we allowing them to let go as they grow?

Reduce.  Recycle.  Reabsorb.  And above all- Release.  Give yourself time to choose which parts of your past are vital, and where you want space to grow.  How much time will it take?  No one knows.  Every body is unique.  So be gentle with yourself.  What did you find and keep?  What will you let go?  Keep me posted.

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