Some Days are Better than Others…

And they really are.

Some days I wake up, refreshed, positive, ready to attack the world. I clean and cook and…hell…even look at the work I have done such far on my PhD.

Then there are days like today.

I’m sore. My stomach hurts. I have gastrointestinal cramping. I’ve got dreadful sciatica down the back of my right leg after an attempt at weeding. My hands and feet have swollen up like balloons – an edema allegedly caused by one of my medications. I can taste blood in my mouth. I notice, more than other days, my hair falling out for no other reason other than how unhealthy I am. My skin is patchy, bruised and refuses to heal. I wear track pants because I still can’t bear the feel of anything around my waist. I’m dog tired, and have set up Master D in front of Finding Nemo, because I just can’t face any noise. And what gets me the most is that I am stuck at home, feeling like crap, while everyone else seems to be out there getting on with their lives and doing SOMETHING. Anything!

But….and this is a big BUT….I am home. With my family. In my own bed. I’m not psychotic or suicidal or even depressed. I have had visiting nurses for the past fortnight and they finished up today. A recent blood test showed my eosinophil count has gone down (still twice as much as normal, but better than four times the norm!). Things are, slowly, moving in the right direction. Touch wood.

I just need to learn to accept the bad days. There will be bad days. I can’t expect to spend nearly five months in hospital and then come home brand spanking new. It’s that dreadful period of convalescence, where you want independence and normality, but you are just not quite there yet.

Each day I try to count my blessings, because the reality is that while I am living my life someone else out there is fighting for theirs. I have a roof over my head and a wonderfully supportive network of family and friends. My body and mind are healing, even if it is frustratingly slowly. And I do have a future. A future outside of a psychiatric facility – which is more than I can say for some of the other patients in there.

Today is a hard day, but maybe tomorrow will be better.

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