I must admit, I've been a little frustrated lately. Since the beginning of the year, it's been back to back sickness for me and my family. I am beginning to feel a little like a castaway trapped on a raft in the middle of a vast sea. Occassionally I spy land–a small speck of steady earth upon which I can land my raft and stretch my legs–but just as I get my balance, another typhoon hits, and I am washed out to sea once more. It feels unending. Disheartening.
Last week, I was struck with a small amount of vomiting, a large amount of nausea, and a huge amount of fatigue for an solid week. I slept like a feline; lifting my head only to use the restroom and take sips of water. It was awful. I hate being bedridden. That's my raft. And my family has been along for the ride as well. Both my husband and my son had a traditional flu…a nasty one that left my usually lovey man very grumpy at being sole care giver to a son who's mom lay in a coma only a room away. We were pretty snippy with each other by the time we hit day 5.
I just am tired of being tired…and sick. And in pain. A person can only handle so much.
So today, with land fully in sight–not just a strip or a small patch but a pretty big island from what I can see before me–I am beyond excited. I want to go to Legoland with my son. I want to overhaul my house. I want to….
But I have to stop and just take a breath. I know that it's a delicate balance I am dealing with here. I need to take it one small, slow step at a time. I have to….it's been a long time since I've touched shore. I need to find my legs again.
So I'm blogging outside of a coffee shop…soaking up fresh air. Maybe I'll wash a load of laundry and play a little with my son once he gets out of preschool. And take lots of breaths. And pretend that I have all the time in the world. Cause I have to. I have to keep living like this will all be ok. Cause it always is. Cause I will make it be.