August Twenty Fourth

It's storming here and my pup is pretty scared of the thunder. She usually isn't, but I think the combination of the wind and rain with it is putting her on high alert. She's desperately trying to get under the covers with me. I used to fall asleep with her when she was a little tiny puppy, but now having 65 pounds of poochifer on me is not quite comfortable. 

I, on the other hand, am enjoying the rain. The sky has been teasing to dump rain for a few days now and it's finally here! While this has thrown a wrench in our plans to go to the lake this weekend, it has opened up the opportunity to stay close by and visit another museum. I'm excited to go on another family adventure. There will be plenty of pictures to share too!

In other news, today was indeed my last day at work until at least October. All morning I dreaded telling anyone. I sometimes don't like explaining my health issues only because I sound like I'm a wimp. But, then, I remember a post I saw yesterday in one of my support groups. I think I saved a screen shot somewhere.... I'll look for it tomorrow.... It was a post about how when "normal" people don't feel well, they usually go home and rest until they feel better. A person with a chronic condition usually lives most days not feeling well. Yes, I have my good days where nothing bothers me, but I also have plenty of bad days that range from nausea to full blown pain that renders me useless. In between all that is where I've been these last two weeks. The pain in my hips and legs is somewhat bearable and I walk kinda funny and working is making it worse. I have been coming home exhausted. Not tired. Absolutely exhausted. Like I've run a marathon and then pulled an all nighter. I'd love to stay home and recoup, but then I'd be missing out on work and life in general. It's really hard to find a balance between having a life and giving your body the rest it needs to feel better. It's especially hard for someone that loves going out and doing things, giving my all at work and being social. I sometimes feel like time off is a way of throwing in the towel and giving up. But, it's not. And today I really pushed myself to realize that. I've had one of those "come to jesus" epiphanies over the last 48 hours and I'm quite happy I did. There is nothing wrong with asking for help. There is nothing wrong with putting me first.

And now, knowing that I made the right decision to slow the fuck down and get better, I am a little happier than I was this morning, or even yesterday. I feel like I'm where I need to be right now. And I have this lovely plan to stay where I need to be and adjust as I move forward. I'm moving forward slowly. One step at a time. And I know it's ok to stumble and fall a little, but it's not OK to toe the edge and roll all the way down.

My pup is currently snoring as the rain and maybe even the sound of my rhythmic typing has lulled her to sleep. And the wind has settled down. And the thunder has become a low rumble in the distance. I'm just about ready for bed myself.