Hi everyone,
Writing to you live from Day 4 of the stomach virus from hell. (Seems like norovirus.) Brian got sick first and I thought I might be safe. Naive considering how flaky my immune system can be. A few hours later, at 10 p.m., I shot out of bed with searing stomach pain, hobbled to the bathroom, and by the time I stood up again, my entire body was in those awful, uncontrollable shivers.
And because when it rains, it pours: Los Angeles unleashed nonstop torrential storms. Some people might call this perfect bedridden weather. Those people do not have a 47lb cutie girl working dog.
In fairness, Frances isn’t THAT active. She gets two 20ish min walks every day, sometimes more, and we play with her tons and do lots of training and mental activities. Maybe that’s a lot compared to your dog, but it feels middle of the road to me. (Granted that’s all I know haha.)
We couldn’t walk Frances in the rain given how sick we were, and we didn’t want to leave her in our backyard unattended for more than a few minutes because she likes to dig and drink the muddy water. (WHY???) It was brutal, and I started to think about how nice it would be if, say, my sister was there to help.
A few friends asked if we needed anything. I mostly said no. We didn’t need food — we couldn’t (still can’t, really) eat. We had broth, toast, Tylenol. What I needed was someone to take Frances on a walk. But it was pouring, and the only people I’d feel comfortable asking to do that in a storm are my husband or my siblings.
It made me realize how selective I am about what kinds of help feel “appropriate” to request. I can ask for advice. I can ask for things that create the “right amount” of inconvenience. But when it comes to asking for the help that would make my life easier in a challenging situation like this one, I often hold back.
This is a flaw of mine, explored more in the second half of this week’s podcast. In part one of the episode, I answer an advice letter about outgrowing friendships, overextending yourself socially, and the guilt we carry when we can’t show up for everyone all the time.
Discussion questions for the comments (choose whichever resonate):
What help do you struggle to ask for?
When was the last time you wished you’d asked for help but didn’t?
What kind of help feels “appropriate” to ask for — and what feels off‑limits?
Who do you feel most comfortable asking for help, and why?
What’s the hardest kind of help for you to receive?
Talk soon,
Hayes
