Faking it, until I make it
I awoke this morning after yet another night on the sofa with Binks, my wee dog. I have chronic insomnia and so much pain I can’t climb the stairs. I was in luck last night, the start of a meteor shower, so many shooting stars, who needs fireworks? A brief glimpse the Northern Lights and a cup of tea at 3 o clock.
I’ve just kissed my husband, Paul before he goes to work. Every morning I make his sandwich, yes he could do it himself and happily would, but, it’s my little way of paying all his kindness back.
Ever since I had my Covid vaccine 3 years ago I have a shingles type rash in my genital area. It’s so, so painful, it’s like having pants full of fire ants.
It’s been a very, very rough 4 month’s, I’ve fallen down the stairs 4 times, bruised myself very badly, I’ve had Covid, 2 very dear, very fit friends died, far too soon. One a super fit, marathon running woman, days from her pension, had a back ache, went to the doctor and was told she had stage 4 pancreatic cancer, she lived just 11 days after diagnosis. The other a lovely, gentle bear of a man died from heart failure. One 65, the other just 60. It made me reflect that despite this godawful disease of mixed connective tissue disease, fibro, Behçet’s and rheumatoid arthritis, I’m still here. I’m so in tune with my body and its numerous creaks and groans I’d notice change. I miss them and will plant them roses in my rose garden. I’ve planted too many over 3 years.
Today I’m taking Binks my puppy out to the forest, it’s literally just our my door. I use my wheelchair, she runs ahead. I hope to sew butterfly wings for my granddaughter Emma and make a unicorn hobby horse.
I’m grateful for every moment of every day, could it be better? Of course, but, it’s still pretty wonderful.