Dress for Stress

I was off to the gym dressed in sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt at 5:55 this morning when the phone rang, two layers down beneath my jacket and sweatshirt. I inappropriately started working my way through the zippers to get at it while continuing to drive. Good thing I did get it, too - it was my mother, calling from the emergency room. "I've been here all night" she announced breezily. "Didn't want to bother you until I knew something. I have blood clots in my lungs."  So a quick u-turn and I was at the hospital in six minutes. That was three minutes longer than it needed to be - I actually stopped at my house to grab my new big purse that holds everything in the world. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I knew it would be better if I were properly equipped with the right stuff.

This is a serious and life threatening condition - pulmonary embolism. But my mother felt fine except for shortness of breath, and looked and sounded like herself, not some sick person. Still on top of things enough to discuss her symptoms and treatment with the doctors herself. One doctor shared a lot of information and I took assiduous notes. I know a lot of this information will fly right out of her head as soon as she moves on - and even right out of my head too. Stress is not conducive to short term retention of vital information.

With a lull in the proceedings, I headed out to get the kid off to school and to clear the decks for the housecleaning crew. I took the time to take a shower, because I figured whatever the day held, it would be better for everybody if I wasn't stinky, and then actually spent a fair amount of extra time (at least five minutes) figuring out what I would wear. I was pretty sure I would spend the day in the hospital or with related chores, no office attire. I pulled on the size-too-big chords that were at the top of the drawer, and grabbed a knit top. But then I backed up and re-thought it.

I was raised with a "save the best for last" philosophy. In particular, save your good clothes for special occasions.  As a practical matter, that often meant never wearing them at all. I've recently and consciously changed to "wear your favorite clothes all the time". That doesn't mean fancy, just favorite. (It also means much more frequent laundry and trips to the drycleaners.) These days, I reach for my favorites first. I keep them in the top layer of the drawers and in the front of the hanging closet. I expect to start getting rid of things I never use.

Whatever the day would bring, I'd be happiest if I felt good about what I was wearing. I settled on my new Champion royal purple sports bra and dark purple-heather v-neck tee shirt in a wicking fabric for the top. Replacing the unflattering and indescribably-neutral-colored cords are my new hiking pants. Made of some miracle fabric, they have the appearance and soft hand of cotton fabric, but with a stretch and a give that makes them flattering and comfortable and even good for the gym. Low profile yet plentiful pockets add to the practicality. On my feet, my Ecco black sneakers with purple highlights.  And over my shoulder, the purse that holds everything.

Functional flattering clothing makes me feel competent. That was what I needed to face the day. Every previous encounter with health care people has left me feeling incompetent and out of control. I strutted back into the ER to find my mother charming a doctor, just three bays down from where my sister died. Together, my mother and I dealt with the ins and outs of her grave (but not immediately life-threatening) situation, asking questions and getting answers we understood. The staff there is very caring and competent, but also very busy. If you don't ask, they just move on. I've just left her for the night, and will be joining her in the morning, (for tests and more tests) appropriately attired for the stresses of the day.