Good Enough

January is the longest month of the year. Yes, it's only 31 days, but each day is about 40 hours long. At least, it feels like it. It's not sunny. I was sleeping 12 hours a day, but that's dropped lately to about 5 hours a day. Make that night. The rest of the time I'm just totally exhausted and lethargic... or napping. I have the energy of a pencil.

Steve got me started on iron as I tend toward anemia, but so far, no improvement. I still drag around like a turtle on sleeping pills. I did start to walk around the block with a neighbor/friend, but I only go when she shows up in her walking shoes. No way will I head out on my own. "Hi, Linda, want to go for a walk?" "No." "Okay, we can just visit." Then ten minutes later I look around and find myself halfway down the street. How does she DO that?!

If you buy stocks, you might want to invest in Ocean Spray. Steve is pouring gallons of pure juice into me daily. (I add water to it when I can.) Also, as a near vegetarian, I'm now in vegetarian hell with him making me eat meat at least four times a week, sometimes more. He made a favorite casserole with ground beef and noodles, but caught me scooping out only noodles onto my own plate. Drat! My doctor insists I need meat to regain energy. Aargh!

I also try to exercise. It would make a great comedy routine. I move my arms a little, lift a leg occasionally, and walk around. That 12 pounds I lost in hospital? I seem to have relocated it.

But my problem is that I live in my own body and that's the main thing I see - pathetic, disheveled me. Steve and others see that I move more easily now, my color is better, and I stand up straighter. My energy level is higher and I've stopped hating all food. Before this I had no idea I was such a wimp. Well, compared to ten years ago, anyway.

It's January, the dreariest month of the year. I've lived through nearly 61 of them now. I think I can do it again. Thank God for two men who push me - one young, one old. I have great medical care, a warm house on these freezing days, two neighbors who check on me almost daily, and a body that hasn't given up yet. Why do I still complain?

But, and this is a big "but" (something with 2 t's that I really had in high school) when it finally all ends... it will get even better. I am so not dreading death. No aches, no pains, no lack of sleep, no misery at all. But it's best to not wish for that heavenly time just yet. I have two guys here, and one lovely lady in KY who are happy for the progress I've made. That's good enough for me.