I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.
Somedays I just wish I was well. It's those days that are hard to handle. Those days I think my body is evilly plotting against me. Those days when I wish I could do what everyone else does. Those days when I think back to what it was like before I hurt so badly. I miss those days.
I miss being able to pop my eyes open and jump out of bed. Not taking an hour or more to get ready because I can't move. Not being nauseated in the mornings. Not feeling exhausted from the moment I wake up. Sleeping well, not waking up five times in the night, and actually feeling rested when I awake. Running. Dancing. Jumping. Doing kart wheels and handstands. Walking up or down stairs without shaking or tripping. Carrying more than five pounds before sending my heart to palpitations and my lungs on a coughing spree.
That was written 108 days ago... and even just in those three months things have gotten worse for my health. Quite possibly the worst part of this sickness is watching yourself grow worse every day. Sometimes I wonder how things could get worse and how bad I will be a year from now, five years from now, ten years from now. I could end up being the girl who is in a wheelchair by the time I am thirty years old. Who knows.
Already since that time I can name new things that I miss. I miss taking showers. I now take baths almost always because a shower just requires too much energy and stability that I don't have. I miss bending without sharp pains in my knees or my ankles curling out. I miss straightening or curling my hair daily. Now I have a perm because sitting for 20 minutes fixing my hair every day hurt my back too badly and it became too much to manage. I miss painting my toe nails; now if I do this, I have to spend the next few hours laying down with heat on my back.
Someday not too far from now I might miss other things. I might miss being able to get dressed without someone helping me. I might miss walking down the stairs. I might miss walking at all. I might miss attending classes at EKU. I might miss driving or traveling. I might miss holding babies or small kids on my hip.(That's already becoming difficult.) I might miss writing cards and notes because my hand cramps with pain. I might miss washing my own hair. I might miss carrying a backpack or purse. I might miss going a day without using some sort of wrap or brace. I might miss living.
But you know what... Today I can sing, I can drive, I can talk, I can walk, I can smile. Today I can love this life and be thankful for each breath. We never know when simple menial tasks we do everyday without noticing will be the things we long and wish we could do again. Now I see why when people get older, they become so ashamed to let other care for them. Who wants to be bathed and fed by another person? Not many do. But somehow we must humble ourselves and learn to ask for help.
I'm finally trying to let go and let God. I'm asking for help when I need it and when I don't I take pride in the things I can do alone. I don't know how long m independence will last, but I will take advantage of it while I can. I am just grateful to know that as I become more and more unable to do things for myself, I have wonderful family and friends surrounding me who will step in to help. They already have so much.