It is 7am, and I am sitting with my coffee, the sun is pouring in after two days of fog and mist and nothing but white.
I have had two migraines in two days, complete with the aura, a jagged light in my eye. The first one was bad enough, but the second one knocked me down even further. Both days lost to the general fog and malaise and trying to function through the headache. Then this morning I wake up with another slammer, so I find myself a little anxious and sad.
I won't be making the hour trip to my grandson's first birthday today. I'll be lucky to get the chickens tended to, and slog back to the couch.
I can read, I will try to keep my mind occupied with that, and maybe crosswords, and maybe a little TV, although that's last on my list.
And I am trying not to awfulize this, trying not to compare it to the first few years after my head injury when headaches like this were the menu for the day, every day.
It's easy to slip into the negative spiral of OH MY GOD, here we go again. So I am trying very hard not to do that.
Talking to you all.
Putting my fears out there.
Sometimes that helps me to expose them for what they are: thieves of my time, my hopes, my serenity.
Since that day when my life changed: August 11, 2011, ironically my father's birthday, I have tried to ignore (often) the limitations I experience every day.
I know I am not alone.
People all over the world live through events like this every day, and are grateful to survive them.
But still, it's not easy.
I remember the doctor telling me that I would lose 30% range of motion of my neck, right and left.
I smile now, thinking of it.
That is the LEAST of it. O.M.G, the very least of it.
But then, when I stop to really ponder the brain decompression, the cervical fusion, and the subsequent two surgeries to chisel out the extra bone in my head, I wonder that I am still sitting here, talking about it.
Of course, my life changed. How could it not???
I think, too, being in my 60's, impacted the whole situation. Tough to plod through all that when you are older, I'm afraid.
But here I am, I can't say adjusting to the changes, because some things can never be adjusted to. Accepting the changes, ah, now there's the rub. Because I have to accept them.
Learning how to make the very most of the time I have left in this world, working AROUND those changes, that's where I am.
I don't have to like it, do I???
We all have a little nostalgia for the "younger" version of ourselves. I think mine is just a little more pronounced, because that one day in my life catapulted me much further down the road than I expected.
So I shed a few tears, I give in to this headache today, and I hang on to the thought that soon I will feel better, good enough to get up, kick myself in the ass, and get back to it.
Amen and hallelujah.