Tuesday, May 27

someone on my porch

I was feeling blue going on grey with despair today, and prior.

I began an ineffective inspirational pep talk about how much I have to be thankful for. In a mind as emotionally limited as mine, all I could think was, “Yes. But it’s hard to appreciate all these things when you feel this ill.”

Only two words explain the physical problem: endless poison. The common cold which comes knocking to all each Winter, banged on my door in March and has not departed except for rare half-day trips.

So then, keep plodding. Life goes on.

And life is going on, but in such a painful manner that I dread its continuance. I wake with my red throat, pudgy tonsils, eggy glands, and I sleep with them. I carry leaden fatigue with me for as many hours as I am awake, and then repeat and repeat and repeat. I feel like every vein is infected with this nasty achey poison. I find myself longing for ‘just one day off,’ but I know it would never satisfy.
At some point, my mind became sad too.

We scour the internet for a specialist, a clinic, a somebody who knows something about endless poison. Last year, and the year before, my medics exhausted their virus ideas. Leaden and lifeless, I remember how we hoped this year of stability would be the environmental answer to the problem.

Wolfie barks furiously at something outside, and the something happens to be someone on my porch holding a bouquet of flowers.

It's for me! The angel someone didn't know that I was feeling this way, but knew that constant sickness can bring on misery. Over and over, something has come when I feel most crushed. I put the bloom in a vase with water, and dry my wet cheeks, and keep thinking that it is providence. What else could it be? 

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