Blogs by Ella Fisher

Oh, Just My Luck!

Just when I thought I’d left my neck pain behind in my 40s, thanks to going all-out at a rock concert featuring The Treatment, CKY, and Alien Ant Farm, life decided to throw me a curveball. A week later, I woke up on a Tuesday morning and, surprise! My neck was locked up tighter than the pickle jar no one in the house could open. I’m not one to shed a tear easily—I’m a certified tough cookie—but this was next level. We're talking “crying into my morning coffee” level.

So, there I was, unable to get out of bed, feeling like an action figure whose head was permanently twisted the wrong way. Three days later, I finally limped back to work, armed with enough paracetamol to make a small pharmacy blush. One of my coworkers, seeing me pop pills like they were breath mints, kindly recommended I visit a trigger point specialist. I felt a surge of gratitude because, listen, I have a big trip to Ireland and Stockholm coming up next week. And trust me, the last thing I need is to show up in Dublin unable to toast my pint or turn my head when someone calls me out for my dance moves.

I don’t know about you, but being stuck at home sick drives me absolutely bananas. It’s not just that feeling of being useless—it's the fact that even sitting upright for five minutes felt like running a marathon backward. So, what was left? Endless couch time. Yippee, indeed (said with all the sarcasm I could muster). This is not how I roll. I’ve been on a great streak lately with the treadmill and weightlifting. That whole “fitness journey” thing? Yeah, mine just hit a massive roadblock.

After day two of embracing my inner potato, I started going stir-crazy. There’s only so much mindless staring at the ceiling one can do before it gets existential. So, I did what any sane person would do: I watched *District 9* for what must have been the 15th time. I don’t know why, but there’s something about watching aliens navigate bureaucratic red tape that just soothes the soul. Once I finished that cinematic gem, I stumbled into a new TV series. Now, this sounds a little odd given the grim topic, but it was a series about the Chernobyl disaster. The show is so well-crafted, and it had me completely hooked. And let me tell you, if something grabs my attention enough to keep my phone out of my hand, it’s practically an award-winning feat.

The Trigger Point Session

If you know me well, you probably already know I still go to my old doctor—the one who isn’t even in the same city where I live. Yep, laugh it up. Why? Because he’s straight to the point, great at what he does, and he always puts my mind at ease. Honestly, that kind of doctor is a gem. You don’t let a gem go just because it’s not conveniently located. Is it practical? Probably not. But hey, life is all about risks, right? And this? This is a tiny, manageable risk I’m willing to take. Maybe I’ll rethink it once I hit 60, but for now, the old doc stays. Loyalty matters, people. Plus, I’m pretty sure switching doctors requires paperwork, and, well… no thanks.

So, thanks to a coworker, I found myself with an appointment to see a trigger-point specialist. Never heard of one? Neither had I. Let me just say: what an experience! I had no idea what I was in for. It was like stepping into a sci-fi movie, minus the aliens. 

Here’s what happened: I was told to extend my arm straight out in front of me. The specialist then pressed on my arm to test my strength. So far, so normal. But then, it got wild. He asked me to use my other hand to press on a random spot near my shoulder—like a human version of Twister. Then, he pushed on my arm again, and guess what? I could hold it steady with way more strength. Mind. Blown. He knew exactly where to treat based on that little exercise. I didn’t know if I was amazed or slightly freaked out. 

Oh, and guess what else? I also tried acupuncture for the first time. Yes, needles. Tiny, weirdly magical needles. Did it hurt? Not really. Did it work? Absolutely! By the end of the session, I could turn my neck without feeling like I needed to schedule my next life insurance checkup. 

The result? I went to Dublin with a neck that turned—and significantly less pain. Ten out of ten, highly recommend. 

Overbooked

Right now, my life feels like a chaotic game of Jenga. Between work, family, endless appointments, and the occasional need to eat and sleep, I barely have time to breathe, let alone finish everything on my to-do list. On one hand, it’s great because the days fly by. On the other, I’d trade the fast pace for a little breathing room in a heartbeat. 

One thing I’ve decided? Next year, I’m taking a different approach. I’m penciling in days just for myself. No meetings, no appointments, no “Can you just...?” moments. Just me and my laptop, focusing on what I love: writing. Lately, I’ve barely written anything, and it’s driving me nuts. Writer’s block? Nope, just plain old-time starvation. 

The good news? I’ve got a break coming up. Between Christmas, New Year’s, and the first week of January, I’ve blocked out time to unwind. No emails, no schedules—just pure, unadulterated relaxation. Honestly, I’m already counting the days. 

Looking Ahead 

Next year is going to be amazing—I can feel it. I’ve got so many exciting plans lined up, and I’m going to share them with you in a January blog post. Who knows? Maybe it’ll inspire you to shake things up in your own life. 

For now, though, I’m signing off with a promise: 2024 will be the year of creativity, balance, and—let’s be real—a little more time to just *breathe*. Stay tuned! 

The Month of U.S. Elections: A Dutch Perspective

First things first, to all my Dutch friends and my worldwide friends: congratulations—or not, depending on how you’re feeling. This sentiment goes out to everyone I know, regardless of which way they lean politically. You see, I like to think of myself as a wise person, and part of that wisdom includes staying mum about politics on my blog. But just this once, I’ve got to say one thing: the election meltdowns I’ve seen? Absolutely nuts. And I don’t use that word lightly. I’m talking about meltdowns so over-the-top that even reality TV producers would think, “Tone it down a bit, will you?”

I remember voting for a political party once, only for that candidate to not become the prime minister. Did I lose my mind and shout at the skies like I was in an epic Shakespearean tragedy? No. I took it on the chin, grumbled a bit, and went on with my life. But this? This was next-level hysteria. I’m talking about full-blown, family-splitting arguments that make Thanksgiving dinner dramas look like a polite tea party. And to that, I say: bizarre, with a capital B.

Can we all just take a collective deep breath and act, as we say over here, “even lekker normaal” (translation: please, let’s be normal for a second)? The results are in, folks. It’s a fact, as unchangeable as the weather. You might not like the outcome. Maybe it makes you want to move to the woods, raise chickens, and live off the grid. I get it, trust me. But at the end of the day, the decision has been made, and it’s time to accept it or at least coexist with it. Yelling into the void—or at your aunt on Facebook—isn’t going to reverse the election.

Now, I’m not trying to sound dismissive here. I know politics can stir up emotions that are as deep and wide as the Grand Canyon. And sure, moving to a different country or diving into a new chapter of your life is always an option if that’s where your heart leads you. But letting this weigh you down to the point where it sours your day-to-day life? Not worth it, not for any party or candidate.

So, for everyone caught up in the post-election chaos: let’s aim to get back to the basics. You don’t have to agree with what’s happening, but you owe it to yourself to keep your peace of mind intact. After all, life’s too short to let political drama drain your joy.