Day 243

Hi.  So, in a twist of fate, my reaching farther and going the distance turned out to be not in the cards.  I have been diagnosed with an autoimmune disease called Graves.  It's a thyroid disorder, hereditary and all that jazz.  I've been stopped in my tracks for the past six weeks.  The doc believes I've had it for a long time, but due to my be-all do-all attitude, things came to a head and all my symptoms came crashing down around me.

I sometimes dream about writing.  My ability to focus is not sharp right now and so I haven't attemped more than thank you notes to the army of friends who make it their business to serve me.  I have no pride left.  There is nothing to hide behind.  My house is what it is.  Friends visit and I call to them to visit me as I lie down to catch another nap. 

I have quit everything except mothering and my calling.  I know there are amazing activities going on around me, or actually not really, since I often plan said activies.  Games nights?  Not happening.  Girls night?  Used to happen.  Weekend away?  Oh, I dream of this.  Once T got a job, I thought OK, but who wants to get away with someone who can't stop shaking like a leaf?

I sound pessemistic and cryptic.  I don't mean to.  I'm actually very happy, grateful for what I believe is yet another piece in the healing process.  I meet with the Endocronologist on Monday and I hope that it gets the ball rolling.  I can't go back to how I was.  I used keeping busy as a crutch, I think.  Since slowing way way down, to a slug really, here's what I've noticed...my ability to receive and act on inspiration has increased.  There's not all the pressure.  I'm not saying sit on a couch all day, but it's been interesting to see what being quiet and thoughtful can accomplish, even if the ability to concentrate will hopefully be enhanced by some thyroid medication.

So, this is where I am.  T writes every day and is almost finished with his novel.  I'm proud of him.