My Second Dad lent me the book, which offers daily reflections; and the small handbook has indeed given me remarkable insight into the depths of Mother Teresa’s heart, mind, soul and life. The small acts Mother Teresa suggested have galvanized my spirit as a radiant new year starts.
Unveiling my personal health journey, I hope, is a simple way to help others who might find themselves in a similar situation. Or perhaps struggle with anxiety. Regardless, the wondrous power of my pen (or paintbrush) has guided me through some unsettling medical moments recently.
Color and crowns
According to Leatrice Eiseman, the venerable executive of the Pantone Color Institute, the color Viva Magenta is the Color of 2023.
“In this age of technology, we look to draw inspiration from nature and what is real,” she says. “PANTONE 18-1750 Viva Magenta descends from the red family, and is inspired by the red of cochineal, one of the most precious dyes belonging to the natural dye family.”
As red is one of my favorite colors, I was delighted this hue was selected for 2023.
After all, the year 2022 had all the offerings to wrap up as “annus horribilus,” as the late Queen Elizabeth had once called a year that was particularly agonizing for the royal family.
Netflix’s “The Crown,” however, presented some outrageously grand escapism last year, as did books, journaling, music, photography and cooking as I recovered from a second major brain surgery and then underwent radiation treatment.
“The Palace Papers,” by Tina Brown, lends a well-researched air of authority to the history of British aristocracy. It’s almost 600 pages, so I have yet to finish the book. At the same time, for a fashion fix, I flip through “The Lady Di Look Book,” by Eloise Moran, which chronicles Di’s magical allure and how she expressed herself nonverbally through her attire.
Reading, undoubtedly, educates, informs and entertains me. And helps me to become a better writer.
Humor helps
My sister JB flew into Dayton in June 2015 and stayed with me while I underwent my first brain surgery for the nonsecreting pituitary adenoma I named “Patrice.” The night before the operation, she and I watched “50 Shades of Grey.” Since neither her husband nor my life partner, Bobby Joe, wanted to see the film, we scrambled all over the Dayton area to buy the newly released DVD.
We giggled throughout the film, offering spicy commentary along the way, as we noshed on one of our favorite cheese board combos. It’s easy yet elegant: Trader Joe’s triple-creme brie and crackers. JB and I still laugh about that evening, and we always share a rind of the deliciously creamy cheese and crackers when she visits me.
Although the pandemic-related restrictions in 2021 prevented my sister to fly out for my second surgery, we Facetimed, texted or called each other every day. Bobby Joe delivered regular updates via text to my family and manager before, during and after surgery. As my go-to guy, he parlayed information with an impressive understanding of science. Photon beams? As a nuclear engineer (kind of a physicist, too), Bobby Joe can give you the scoop.
After I was released from the Neuro Intensive Care Unit in 2021, Bobby Joe took me home late that afternoon. He ordered takeout Chinese that evening, and we watched the last episode of season two of “Ted Lasso.” Although I felt understandably wobbly, tired and greatly congested, we savored the good fare and smartly written TV comedy-drama.
Vision boards
About four or five years ago, I put the concept of vision boards to work. Using poster board, markers, stickers and photos, I assembled one at the start of the year. The 2021 showed extra effort in the artsy-craftsy category. In December 2020, my sis and her family flew out for Christmas. We each wrote or sketched out our dreams for 2021. Traveling, journaling, getting in shape and living generously were prominent themes. I placed the board on an easel, and it absolutely guided me through 2021.
My vision board for 2023 includes writing a cookbook, maybe a memoir/novel/screenplay, and, most certainly, wrapping up the interior styling at Chez Robin. Prior to the pandemic, I began tidying up my home with my “The Home Edit” books in hand. In 2021, I stepped up those efforts as I prepared for the operation on the noncancerous tumor. Tripping over piles of books, magazines and notepads was hardly the vision I wanted for six weeks of convalescing at home.
I was ready for a clean, healthy and utterly stylish slate.
Thumbing through my interior design magazines, I have clipped out photos or key words to add to my vision board. These days, the Danish concept of “hygge” (pronounced “hoo-ga”) entices me. Sometimes called “coziness of the soul,” hygge is, in short, about gratitude and savoring the simple pleasures of life.
That works for me.
Moving forward, my vision board also features an even bigger portion devoted to continued self-care.
Healthy habits
Now that the holly-jolly season of overindulgence is over, do you find clothing fits too snugly?
Trust me, I sense you silently wincing with a “yes.” I am there as well.
But aesthetic reasons alone haven’t caused me to reboot my workouts in 2023. After my operation in 2021, I developed high blood pressure for which I now take medications. The condition startled me as I had always had great numbers in that arena. I started teaching group fitness classes when I was in college, earning certificates over the years from the National Academy of Sports Medicine, Zumba and other organizations. I consider myself reasonably fit, of course, but the pandemic-induced trend of wearing yoga pants daily did not help my waistline.
The shutdown also prompted me to renew my CPR-AED certification, which is required to teach group fitness classes. If I couldn’t exercise in the gym, I reasoned, it was finally time to carve out space in the garage for my workouts. At the same time, I am also studying to renew my group-fitness instructor certificate.
Reducing stress, too, remains a constant endeavor.
Anxiety and insomnia during the past three years went into overdrive for me as the pandemic uprooted our world. Adjusting to remote work, wearing masks and navigating the slew of medical tests I underwent before and after my surgery on Oct. 26, 2021, was exhausting and sometimes downright petrifying.
Yet I knew fear or middle-age angst couldn’t dominate my life. Counseling has helped me immensely, as I earnestly work to not “catastrophize” situations and kick out silly worrying or irrational thoughts. I try now to practice mindfulness.
Thankfully, my company offers some amazing resources for physical, mental and emotional well-being. Recently, I signed up for the Headspace app and I love its various classes, meditations and other tools. The 5-minute breathing exercises, for instance, are a fantastic way to start the morning.
My backstory
The benign mass in my brain was discovered sometime in 2008 when I was living in New Mexico. Horrible one-sided headaches, which felt like a knitting needle stabbing my skull, were worsening. My former husband Tom, a test pilot at the time, took me to a seemingly endless string of doctor appointments.
The many medical tests revealed incidentally that I had a microadenoma on the pituitary gland at the base of my skull. Since it was so tiny, the doctors appropriately advised “watchful waiting.” Accordingly, I had annual MRIs, MRAs, eye exams, blood tests and other medical tests annually. (In 2015, the adenoma jumped from a “micro” to macro size and that is why surgery, for the first time, was required.)
My marriage eventually ended, and I moved to Dayton in September 2009 to be closer to family. I had no job, of course, aside from a couple of much-appreciated freelancing gigs about wedding attire trends for the Los Angeles Times. (I was a special sections writer-copy editor at the newspaper, resigning just before I wed Tom on Dec. 24, 2003.)
The punishing after-effects of the Great Recession hindered the number of job opportunities. After applying online for countless positions, I finally took the in-person route and began searching the old-fashioned way.
Dressed to the nines, I strolled into the Oakwood Talbots and asked for a job application. A few weeks later, I secured employment as a part-time sales associate at the store. Angie, the ever-so-stylish store manager, was splendidly encouraging and empathetic as I shared my backstory.
The shop was quite busy as the holiday season approached. Knowing I would be celebrating my first Christmas as a divorcee-in-the-making greatly saddened me.
Angie gently admonished: “Robin, you need to reclaim Christmas.”
And she was absolutely right.
With a newfound sense of purpose, I developed new holiday traditions, landed another job at an upscale clothing boutique, Get Dressed in Oakwood, and then at this newspaper. The true reason we celebrate Christmas was beautifully in full view.
It wasn’t about my pity party, but the birth of Jesus Christ and the boundless joy one’s chosen faith can reveal.
My attitude readjustment was complete then. And it remains so now. Yes, I wish to live simply and with abundant gratitude.
Happy new year to all!
Robin’s Journey
Sunday, Dec. 25, 2022: Two brain surgeries reveal strength of human spirit
Sunday, Jan. 1, 2023: New Year kicks off with radiance, healthy habits
Sunday, Jan 8: Finding healing properties in traveling and painting
About the Author
