Inspirational song: Lonely Blue Boy (Conway Twitty)
I made it through the holidays. That in itself needs to be celebrated. My energy and stamina held up far better than I expected. This is proof in itself that all the things I've been doing to get healthier are working, and exceeding all expectations at that. A shout out to my doctors and pharmacists might be in order at this point. (Yes, I include the pharmacists. It makes all of this much less disheartening when I have such a close relationship with my pharmacy that all I have to do every month is walk in and smile my hellos, and they reach for the bag of pills waiting for me.) I don't recall ever hearing, or at least paying attention to, the phrase "self care" before this last year. Now that it has a name, and I have a reason to do it, I'm getting better at it. And it's getting me better. I stopped trying to wear myself down to a nub to pretend I'm like everyone else. I'm not, and I don't have to try to be. Realizing that has freed me to slow down when I need to, and has given me the ability to find a path to remission, or more specifically, to quiescence.
But after a month of parties and shopping and company, it is time to slow down again, at least briefly. I'm back in my Monday pattern. I had to sleep late today, and move very slowly until noon. I don't think I had a choice. I was chilled to the bone this morning, and I needed every one of my blankets for as long as I could justify staying in them. I didn't worry about dishes or laundry or any of the cleanup from having my daughter and grand-dog here for half of a week. It says a lot about how well my treatment is going that I only needed to take it easy for a few hours before I got another wind. As recently as October, I was still needing to pull inside of myself for the whole Monday, every week, just to keep going at one-quarter impulse speed for the rest of the week. I still have aches and pains that are stubbornly refusing to leave, but my energy and overall constitution have improved noticeably. This is why I listen to my doctors and stick to my pill and diet regimens.
I didn't waste my day. Resting wasn't wasting time. It was healing. And once I felt rested, I applied myself to something that has been back-burnered for a little more than a week. I've been turning over my latest short story in my head since mid-December. I picked it up again today and learned a few more details about the people in the story. I'm starting to like them more as people, now that I know them better. I learned that the oldest person in the cast of characters likes to sing a lot, mostly songs from the 1950s. I already knew that she looked like Eileen Brennan (think Mrs Peacock from Clue the movie), and that she was deeply protective of the one she loves. Now, picturing her singing all the time makes me adore her even more. I can't wait to write about her. So far she hasn't been introduced, though. We will get there. I can't rush her.
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