A Rant

It’s okay to want to be healthy. That’s how you are supposed to feel.

So. Here I am. I’m 12 weeks into this new life where getting better is my only real job and guess what? I started to get impatient at week eight. I felt better. The tremors were subsiding and I could make it through a sentence without getting lost. I was able to bust out five sun salutations in a row and weeded half a flowerbed. It was new and wonderful and I wanted to go back to work, but instead of taking a measured and thoughtful approach to health and wellness, I figured that I’d dive right into the work force.

Right. You know what’s coming, don’t you?

The adventure went as spectacularly as you may imagine and by that I mean it failed and I set myself back a little because I pushed too hard, too fast. That’s me though and Jamie (you know, best husband in the ‘verse) had been offering kind reminders that taking it slow is best and after almost a year of being messed up it is important to remember that nothing happens overnight.

I wanted to be all the way better, though. I thought maybe, just maybe, because I want it to be so, it would work. That’s how it happens in the movies, doesn’t it?  The plucky heroine wants to go to the prom even though she’s got no date, no dress, and one leg. Cue overcoming adversity montage and suddenly she’s wearing Zac Posen haute couture, dating a dreamy tube of wonderful, and rocking a computerized prosthetic that looks real and helps her solve crimes.

It turns out that life is not like the movies and I can’t make things happen by just wanting them and recovery from an ongoing illness takes time, more time than eight stupid weeks. Go figure?

So, my words of wisdom for the day, which I promise I will start sharing with more frequency than once a month, are these: it’s necessary to be patient with the process even if you are impatient with the results.

It sounds shit, right? Be patient. That’s just something my mom told me one week before Christmas when I was sure I was getting exactly what I wanted and didn’t want to wait for the grand unveiling or when I realized that no amount of wishful training bra purchases was going to make me sprout boobs any faster.

Check me out, flaunting my Judeo-Christian White Western-Industrialized privilege. I’m such a whiner, yeah?

Am I a whiner? No. I’m not, because it’s okay to not want to be sick anymore and it’s alright to be impatient with the recovery process, no matter how much privilege I’ve got. It still sucks having a stupid chronic illness that’s dug it’s heels in and decided it has nowhere to be but cramping my style.

Do you hear me out there?  IT’S OKAY TO WANT TO BE HEALTHY! That’s how you’re supposed to feel. If you collapse into your illness, accept it, then the illness has won and that is just not on.  I tried to go back to work too soon. I wanted to contribute. I wanted to be farther along than I am and got myself all riled and ready to go when I am not anywhere near the starting line yet. I mistook being able to weed half a flower bed and doing yoga two times in one week as proof I could handle a 40+ hour a week schedule. That’s okay, but Jamie kept offering reality checks and I kept not listening because I wanted to go back to work.

That’s just not the way it’s going to be right now. I need to learn to live in the moment: be here now. How’s that for license plate wisdom?

Be impatient with the results, want more, strive for more every day, but be patient with the process, because healing takes time.

So there.

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