Sidewalk pillow

Gorgeous day.  beautiful.  it was freakin california here today, people.  Simply gorgeous outside.  As true as they are, these positive statements that are coming out of me more and more these days still seem to surprise me. Let me ssee if I can explain why.

It was that bad for that long.  I couldn't even fathom being able to look around the illness and see beauty and light going on around me when I hurt so bad, when I was so dizzy, so weak.  To look around the illness not through it was a talent that I just hadn't acquired yet.  I hurt so bad I didn't think I needed to, I was justified in my melancholy.

 I used to always try and explain to people, 'it's like I have these really dark and cloudy glasses on. You can't see around them, you can't decide to take them off for a couple of hours and take a break from the suffering.  No matter what, you have to look through them.  Every decision you make is through them.  Every thought you think is through those dark glasses.'  And to a degree, maybe that argument is still valid. Unlike a headache that may be horrible but goes away for a couple of hours, my illness doesn't ever give me a break.  I never feel better, the contractions are right on top of each other, so to speak.  Is my suffering the worst anyone has ever been through.  not even close.  But I have every right to be sad, right?  I have every right to be upset, don't I?  Yeah, I do. But do I have to? no.  Do I want to?  sometimes, absolutely.

I woke up today and felt like I had been kicked by a horse in my sleep (charles woodrow?).  I woke up and every.muscle.hurt. You think I'd be used to it by now but it sometimes amazes me the pain of those first 10 minutes.   I remember the first day I woke up sick in S. Africa in August 2006 - i thought I had been beaten in my sleep. I was sure of it.  Hey, I was new to Africa and I had heard some stories.  Every single muscle had been pulled.  It hurt to lift my head off the pillow, it hurt to even think about standing.  I felt like I had been hit by a truck. 

Today's awakening, a refresher course from that day.  Anyway - what are ya gonna do. It took a while, but I eventually made it up.  Everything hurt, everything was pulled.  A sledgehammer had been pounded into my back and to step on my feet felt like I was stepping on sharp rocks.  Woodrow and I crossed our paws and prayed for the cahones to just give this day a try.  I put on a long green dress (I had made it into the shower the night before but those legs definitely didn't get shaved), brushed my teeth, combed the hair that probably didn't get all of the shampoo washed out of it, and waddled to the car for church last part of relief society.  To turn the car hurt, to look over my shoulder was dicey, but I made it. I walked in, sat down, and as always, felt the peace that comes with trying your best.  I knew the Lord was as proud of me for my 28 minute church attendance today as if I had been for hours. 

On the way home, I noticed just how beautiful it was outside.  65 degrees, cloudy with a the sun peeking in and out. I'll have to take Woodrow for a nice walk, I thought.  I changed lanes onto I-35.  Ouch.  What?  No walk, he'll understand.  Now on days that I hurt this bad, I have a few options.  The hound needs his exercise.  bottom line - he gets wild if he doesn't get it (okay, a step above lethargic but I still can't handle a yippee somewhat hyper hound).  One, we walk.  Two, I drive to this elementary school lot that has a big field with an enclosed fence and I lay in the grass and he runs around and pees on everything.  It works.  Three, we go to the dog park. That place is hollowed ground for me and deserves a post all in itself.  Now because we have had rain all week, two and three were out because of the mud.  Muddy hound equals need to be bathed hound which is a whole other marathon to run.  So, I got out the leash and started my waddle walk.  One foot in front of the other, I told myself.  Just make it down this hill and you can stop for a break.

The temperature was perfect, light was beautiful, breeze was perfect, and I was getting the only dose of medicine that I really needed.  We stopped and said hi to our neighbor Betty and her little white fluff ball named Marceaux.  Very distinguished, furry... thing.  I don't know what to do with those little creatures that want to be carried around in gucci bags all day.  Anyway, we made it two more houses and found a nice patch of sidewalk.  Usually, it's grass.  The opening of the woods start there and Woodrow can find lots to piss on while I stretch out on the grass.  Today the grass was pure mud so the sidwalk it was.  A man came by running, gave me a look and took off. A group of kids came by, talking loudly about who kissed who last night and how so and so had been 'going out forever.'  At least they were outside, at least they were unplugged.  I smiled and continued my snooze. 

What a great nap, what a great day.