A Lesson in Self-Care

I’ve newly started donating my plasma. There's something deeply satisfying about spending an hour giving back, knowing that my plasma will help create lifesaving therapies for people who desperately need them. Plus, I get an uninterrupted hour to catch up on Netflix or listen to music! When I left today’s appoint, I asked about a scheduled surgery for cubital tunnel release in my right elbow, "How long do I need to wait before I can donate plasma again?"

The answer caught me completely off guard: 120 days.

Four months? I stared at the nurse, confused. "But I have a perfectly good left arm!"

That's when she explained something that seems obvious in hindsight but felt like a huge "DUH" in the moment: "Your body needs your own plasma to heal."

Oh. Right.

Standing there in that medical office, I had one of those crystal-clear realizations that cuts through all the noise. My body wasn't just asking for rest or time off from certain activities. It was literally requiring its own resources—resources I'd been cheerfully giving away —to repair itself.

As I drove home, I couldn't stop thinking about how this applied to so much more than plasma donation. How many times do we continue to give to others when we really need to stop and replenish ourselves?

We often say yes to extra “stuff” when we're already stretched thin. We push through social commitments when our mental health is quietly asking us to slow down. We volunteer for ONE MORE thing, help with ONE MORE favor, take on ONE MORE responsibility—all while running on fumes...

Unlike my plasma situation, these scenarios don't come with a medical professional telling you "You need to keep your resources for yourself right now." Nope, we're left to figure out our own limits, often feeling guilty about setting boundaries that might seem "selfish" to others, keeping us in the vicious cycle.

There's definitely something counterintuitive about taking time for true self-care: sometimes the most generous thing we can do is to temporarily stop being generous. Read that again.

Just as my body needs that plasma to repair my elbow, our emotional and mental reserves need time and space to rebuild. Have you ever been a mom that puts herself in a time out? Ever been on family vacation and needed a walk - alone? Some days we'll take whatever time we can find to just get "15 minutes alone" it seems. Maybe it's enough, maybe it's not.

Maybe your "120 days" looks like:

• Saying no to new commitments while you process a major life change

• Taking a break from being everyone's emotional support while you work through your own challenges

• Stepping back from volunteer work during a particularly demanding season at home

• Limiting social obligations when you're feeling overwhelmed or depleted

• Asking others to handle certain responsibilities while you focus on your health

  
  

Sometimes the most loving thing we can do—for ourselves and for the people who depend on us—is to recognize when our body, mind, or spirit needs its own plasma to heal.