Full disclosure.

Isn't that what it's about????  This blogging thing?  I have never shied away from being totally

honest about what is happening in my life, to a point, of course.  So why stop now?

I have been a lousy blogger of late, simply because I have felt so awful for about four months........between the atrial fib and the METOPROLOL (drug from hell), I have felt as bad as I have ever felt in my life.

Tired, short of breath on any exertion, wiped out, just plain horrific. Too many side effects from the medication,  A fib out of control if I didn't take it.

So there, That's the truth.  I feel bad whinging about it, knowing full well, that there are so many people on this planet with it so much worse.   I tell myself every day, that I have a home, and food, and family, and we're safe.  So much to be grateful for. 

 I get it, I do.

But I still feel like crap.

I have been weaving, sporadically,  trying to stay busy, and keep my mind occupied.  

Since January, I have been counting off the days until my ablation, the end of April, and I found that if I sat around and let my mind take over, it was a rabbit hole I did not want to go down.

At the same time, I couldn't go walking, or go outside and do much of anything that took any energy........so sitting at the loom, or the sewing machine, in short intervals, was the only thing productive that I could do.

I have been working through my stash of chenille, making clothing, too much perhaps, but there it is.

I've been playing with inlays and a boho look, actually amusing myself quite well.

It's amazing how much I appreciate a day without a frantic atrial fibrillation in my chest, even 

while feeling like I'm operating in slow motion.  It's all in the perspective.

But what I'm really focusing on is two weeks from now, when I go in for this procedure, and 

they find the source of this random electrical impulse, destroy it, and let me get on with my life.

I have no illusions.   I just had my 75th birthday, and I know that my years on earth are not

expansive.   But I don't think it's out of bounds to hope for some years of feeling good.  

Normal.  

Or at least normal for this age.

I'll take that.

I do find it amusing that not so long ago, my priorities were different.   

Even now, I can imagine myself thinking in years past, about what would make me happy.........a trip maybe,  something new, something different, a new LOOM perhaps!

And now, it's so much simpler.  

What will make me happy is feeling better than this.......not tired, not short of breath, not having a trip hammer in my chest.........ah, how point of views can change.

I just want normal.  That's enough.  How greedy we usually are.

It's so much easier to be happy in the space we're in, when we find out how fortunate we really are.

And sometimes, it does take some discomfort to make that crystal clear.

This, still, is my happy place.

Here I have all the serenity I have ever wanted.

I have the comfort that my soul has craved.

I have  contentment, joy.  Right here.

 

I couldn't ask for more than this.

Only another weaver might really understand.

It's simple really.   My life is better than ok.  I just have this unwanted guest, an electrical impulse 

hanging on for the ride, but unwelcome all the same.

It's got to go.  I don't have time for it anymore.

Hopefully next time I post, I can report that it has departed.   I am so ready.