Too much of a good thing

It is Sunday morning and I am stretched out on the loveseat with a softly purring kitten nestled in the crook of my arm.  I’ve just finished a mug of lemon green tea and the sun is warm and golden as it filters in through the curtains.  Everything around me is so peaceful and so right.  But it doesn’t feel that way inside.

This has been a miserable week.  It follows a stretch of nearly impossible weeks and I’m left feeling my spirit has been carved away by the rushing river of sickness and hardship.  My heart is a canyon but it is full even among its voids and it will become a thing of beauty and strength in time.  My mantra.

Let me confide in you, blog world:

I have some health issues that have been troubling me more over the past year and through various different treatments, it was decided that I should begin to take a certain medication.  I’d been on it before and it comes with a whole host of side effects, but I was assured that the benefits would outweigh all of that in time and I would get back to my best life sooner.  I went for it.  The side effects have been horrible.  Not only is it not really doing much for my original problem, but it is making my body so incredibly weak.  As an example, I wanted to wipe down and clean out the kitchen cabinets.  They’re beautiful cherry cabinets and we are definitely keeping them but something about putting my clean dishes in cabinets that have probably not been cleaned in awhile (because who has time for that!?) was just not right.  I started spraying and wiping but my arms stopped being able to move.  I could no longer lift the cleaning cloth.  My dear mother was kind enough to finish for me, but it’s just not an acceptable side effect.  I’m also unable to ever feel rested and by the end of the night (AKA 6pm), I can hardly walk and can’t even stay up long enough to take my medicine on time. I hate it.

That part is getting better as my body gets used to the medicine.  Actually, in the past two weeks I’ve started to feel much more like a 27-year-old and less like someone’s sweet great-grandmother.  Not quite there yet, but close.

Then there is work.  Spring tends to be a really busy time in the world of architecture as permits are being pushed and bids are going out and coming in at lightning speed in time for the summer construction season.  I have been working like a madwoman over the past month and it’s been tiring to say the least.

I realized that I needed to take a break.  I was approved for a day off work and I was already making mental preparations for how I’d spend my day.  Sleep in, go to lunch with my parents, maybe do some painting in the house (which I find relaxing), and let my body and brain recover.  My boss called about half way through my day off with some urgent work assignments.  Next thing I know, I’m working. Tired. Sick. Weak. Worn out. Working.

That evening I had planned to go to Mark’s house for some relaxation and reconnecting time.  Except I could not find my car keys anywhere.  Panicking, I called the restaurant I had visited, emptied out my purse, gutted my coat pockets, and rummaged through my room.  Nowhere.  After an hour of heart-racing panic (it’s my only set of car keys, my house key, and our only mailbox key), my father found them lodged under the back seat of his sedan.  They fell out while on the phone with my boss. Sheesh.  In all that wasted time, I never did get to Mark’s and we missed out on much-needed date time.

I was still reeling from this and feeling depressed about my inability to manage the many facets of my life when I woke up the next morning ready to spend a full day at the new house.  I lugged everything out to my car only to discover a flat tire.  I don’t have time for a flat tire.  Apparently the tire place where I have a warranty doesn’t have time for a flat tire either.

Now that I’m reflecting on all of this, here is my takeaway:  my life has too many blessings in it for me to handle.

–I have a really good job in a lousy economy that needs me to work hard because we just have too much job security right now.
–My job offers me benefits so that I can get the healthcare I desperately need.
–I live in a part of the world where I have access to doctors, medicines, and ever-developing treatment options.
–I have a lot of keys on my keyring that indicate an excess of privilege.  One means that I own a car.  Another means that I have a home.  Another means that I have access to a free postal service that can deliver bills for utilities I already beat the odds to have.  I flush my toilet with cleaner water than so many people on this planet drink.
–I have someone in my life that I love and that I get to visit and connect with when I’m feeling completely overburdened by all of my fortune.

And right now, I have a cat that thinks I’m super cool.  What more could I want?

A break.  I want a break.



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