This idea has been in my head for the last 3 weeks. I had this post "saved" and opened and saw it was empty. I guess that sums up the exhaustion. Three weeks ago I reclaimed a bit of my old self. On 24 hours notice found a flight out of Phoenix back to Wisconsin.
I'm too tired to give the story the time it deserves. As I write this I had my first IV yesterday since I got back. A chelation of EDTA. Did I mention I hate IV's. It's the third night in a row I've woken from a restful sleep with chills, or sweats, nightmares, abdominal issues. It's the third night being home alone at night here in Phoenix.
But three weeks ago I reclaimed a bit of my old self, my true self; and that has helped when I've been up alone and scared I remind myself that she's in there. That is who I am - not this illness. The person who likes to make last minute flights and move forward. Not be still. Capable.
Most days this disease wins, or at least it feels like it does. When I'm asked the seemingly innocent question, "so what have you been up to" I stare back at the questioner realizing we don't really live in the same world. I have no way to answer that in a context that would make sense - I have been up to getting to tomorrow. That is what I am doing right now…getting to tomorrow.