I've often heard the phrase, "If you don't have your health you don't have anything." I woke up this morning, as I have countless other mornings without my health. My health has been absent from my life for nearly a decade. I will turn 31 this month and still be without my health.
Every morning I open my eyes and I am hit again with the reality of this situation. I say "this" situation because it can't be "my" situation. This can't be happening to me, but it is, and it might not ever go away, so it's time for me to embrace it.
I lay in bed, waiting for the nausea to lesson, I assess the pain that moves through my legs and arms and abdomen, this will determine how hard it will be to get through the day. I was up most of the night because the pain was too much to fall asleep or stay asleep for long. I have to wake up now. I drag myself out of bed and begin to walk, the stiffness will subside within an hour, I hope. I make my way into the living room, the bottoms of my feet feel bruised with every step, hmmm, haven't felt that for a few days. As I turn the corner, three sets of beautiful, bright, blue eyes are staring at me. Three handsome, little men are looking at me, waiting for me, depending on me. I smile, I may not have my health, but I have them. As I look at them, it feels like I have "everything". I will myself to make pancakes and eggs for them today. I can't eat for another hour because of the meds I choke down 4 times a day, but I watch them eat and laugh and I feel satisfied that I was able to do something for them. I will have to do the dishes later because my energy is spent, I have to lay down on the couch for a while now. I look around at all the work I need to do, I don't understand why I can't just get up and do it, why can't I just do it now? The boys take their plates to the sink and sit by me, we read stories for a while, although it's hard for me to read because I'm out of breath after a couple of pages. I keep going though, my two oldest are old enough to read so they take over after a while. My two year old laughs and the sound warms my soul. I look over at the massive pile of clean clothes in the corner of the room. Maybe I can fold for a few minutes. I move to the floor and get to work. The pain and stiffness in my hands and arms is less than helpful, but i'm used to it, I need to get this done. I know my husband will have to put some of them away when he gets home, but i'll make a trip here and there throughout the day and hopefully get most of it done. I smile as I think of Matt. Once again, I feel like I have "everything". Half way through the clothes, it's time to lay down again, who knew that folding clothes could make your stomach hurt so bad. The older boys want to play with their friends now, but they need to do thier jobs. I tell them they can play after they clean their room, you'd think i'd asked them to clean the ENTIRE house with how they react. I try to be patient as I breath through the pain and extreme brain fog and fatigue that just hit me, why can't they just do what I ask? I think to myself, I could just let them go, it would be so much easier than fighting them on this, but no, they need to learn how to work and to be obedient, so I walk slowly to their room to help them to stay motivated and not get too overwhelmed. I sit down on the floor. This is the position I must choose when I set out to pick up any room unless it's a really good day where I can stand and bend to pick thigs up, but those days seem to be getting fewer and farther between. I scoot around on my bottom and gather common items into little piles and then with the boys help, we move the piles to their proper places. Soon we are done, but I'll have to vacuum later because I know i've overdone it and i'll feel even worst tomorrow if I don't rest now. The rest of the day is much of the same, my older boys will play at the neighbor's house or read or color or watch a movie while I rest. I'll manage to get them lunch somehow. My baby is two and a half and luckily still willing to take a nap with me so I read to him and sing to him and we both fall asleep. Waking up from my nap is the same as waking up in the morning, I cringe as I realize the pain is still there, always there to some degree. It could be worst though, it can always get worst. I have to get up. I promised my 7 yr old I would make him asian noodles with shrimp and peanut sauce for dinner. I love to cook, but the burning pain in my hands while I stir and chop are taking the fun out of it. I really should lay down before this pain in my ribs gets any worst and now the dizziness is kicking in. I finally finish, the look on my son's face as he eats his dinner is reward enough for the price I payed to make it. I got it done, but I can't eat it yet because I can't eat for another half an hour. Stupid meds! Will I have to take these my entire life? It's a powder that doesn't absorb into the liquid I take it with and it feels like i'm drinking sand. I gag and wretch as I choke it down. Matt will be home soon, I'll eat with him. I don't know how i'll get caught up on these dishes. If I just lay down for a while, then maybe I can work on them later tonight. I lay on the couch just as my phone beeps. I read a text from a dear friend, it reads, "How are you doing today?" I gaze out my picture window, I see beautiful mountains, a crystal blue lake, and golden wild grass. I look at my children laughing and wrestling in front of me on the floor, just then the front door opens and my best friend and eternal companion walks in with a smile on his face because he's so happy to see me. I text a reply back to my friend, "Doing well, how about you?" I realize that despite my daily agony and pain and the absence of my health, that phrase is wrong, I still have "everything". I am more than my illness, I am still me.
