{"id":264,"date":"2019-09-14T17:23:48","date_gmt":"2019-09-14T22:23:48","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/dashiellbarkhuss.com\/discomfortblog\/?p=264"},"modified":"2019-09-14T17:27:26","modified_gmt":"2019-09-14T22:27:26","slug":"day-20-dont-complain-at-all","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/dashiellbarkhuss.com\/discomfortblog\/day-20-dont-complain-at-all\/","title":{"rendered":"Day 20: Don’t Complain At All"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

I decided to carry over my challenge from day 19, Don’t Complain About My Tooth Ache<\/a>. But for day 20, I won’t be complain about anything<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Complaining,
My Complaining Face<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Refocusing Attention<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I got off to a bad start. My tooth infection disrupted my sleep all night. As soon as I woke up, I went to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and with a mouth full of swollen gums the first words I spoke were, “My mouth is shit.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I stood in the bathroom pitying my mouth, my cat circled my ankles, incessantly meowing. So I told her to shut up. When she kept meowing I said, “Don’t you understand what shut up means?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Only then did I remember the no complaining rule. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But I was able to turn the day around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The infection worsened since the day before. The pain increased. I couldn’t open my mouth all the way. Swallowing hurt. All day, I fantasized about taking a hammer and crushing my wisdom tooth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yet, as I fell pray to negativity, I kept reigning myself back. I remembered not to give my pain any more energy than it was already taking from me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I played with my focus. If I focused on a different part of my body, I couldn’t even feel the infection. At least until I swallowed, which brought my attention back to the infection. But only momentarily.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Switching My Attitude On Command<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

At dinner, a change in plans further tested my patience. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Normally, on Fridays, we have Shabbat dinner at my parents’ house. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Last minute, my parents said we should meet them at the hospital for Shabbat dinner. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I have a very strict diet and hadn’t prepared anything to eat. I needed to shower pretty badly. And I hate changes in plans! So my first response was no. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was hard not to complain about the lack of communication. But I held my words back and took their perspective. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

After getting off the phone, I rethought my reasons for not coming. Were my reasons just excuses and complaints? I wasn’t flat out complaining, but I had a no-can-do attitude. If I change my attitude, could I make this work? With no car and no food? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

So I decided to call an Uber, stop on the way to Whole Foods, and put together something ready-to-eat that fits my diet. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was uncomfortable for me. Frugality and preparedness are values I care deeply about. Buying pre-made food and taking two Ubers is far from frugal. But I also value spending time with my family, especially during difficult times.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shabbat dinner was a mess. My parents didn’t realize the cafeteria would be closed. Luckily there was a Farm Fresh vending machine so they were able to eat. My cousins ate the raisin challah that we brought for the blessings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Normally I would get frustrated with how unorganized the ordeal was. But I didn’t focus on that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was actually really fun!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The chaos led to some hilarious outcomes. We had no kippahs (Jewish head covering) so the boys fashioned some out of trash; the top of a jar, a piece of napkin, a brown paper bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n
\"\"
Shabbas Table<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n