My body is failing me. Or maybe it’s that I’m failing my body. I look back 15 years when I married Better Half and everything was so good, so perfect. So healthy. Now I’m an insurance company’s worst nightmare.
Prior to Christmas I joined a gym. I was working out like a fiend; going to yoga. Loving it. I was determined to get me back. I was taking the breast cancer bull by the horn and gonna… something! Boom—out like a light! Excruciating pain began in my lower back. Fast forward three weeks later, and I find that the one bad disk I was already dealing with in my neck has magically turned into two bad disks and a lovely bonus: a third bad disk in the lumbar spine. Hello God—I’m a member of Gen X, this is ridiculous!
In two weeks I have an appointment with my hematologist-oncologist. I’m scheduled for two body scans. I have an appointment with my surgical oncologist. I’m scheduled for a diagnostic mammogram. I have an appointment with my neurologist. I have two physical therapy appointments per week for twelve weeks. I have an appointment to see my general practitioner. All but the PT appointments are not local. I’m tired. So very tired.
So as I lay here flat on my back typing this depressing message, my message to you is first, I absolutely do not want pity, what I want to tell you is this: if you enjoy good health, do not take it for granted. Be grateful, and take care of yourself because someone like me would love to be in your shoes.
(As I was signing off on this post, BH recommended I buy some wine kits in order to increase my stash of wine and champagne—there’s light at the end of the dark tunnel!)