Two months ago, a knot developed in my right lower back, just above my glutes. There it has stayed in spite of massages, heating pads, and stretching. Bending over both hurts and is a bit dangerous, so I’ve stopped doing it. Dropped things remain dropped until Neal retrieves them.
|Portrait of the artist after getting her own breakfast plate.
I am a mess.
There is shit all over my house. Each room has two to four items on the floor — discarded clothes, a rogue noodle, an eyebrow comb, a tampon that leapt from its cabinet like a story from the “It happened to me!” section of YM magazine, etc. As I type, I wear a bra attached by a single hook (which took four attempts). I pulled my hoodie on backwards initially, leaving me briefly blind and disoriented.
My legs ache. It’s a soft ache, humming along my IT bands and pulsing quietly in my calves and ass. I’m no stranger to MS-related discomfort, but I’m not used to hurting. Walking is awkwarder than usual with the added bonus that sometimes the aforementioned knot will shout “WHAT ABOUT ME!” inspiring a wince and a need to brace myself on whatever is nearby.
Do you know that I started a new job at the beginning of October? I work from home *and* part-time. It’s magical, freeing me to both make and attend daytime appointments without worrying about nearby cubicle dwellers wondering why I disappear for hours or keep whispering about Botox injections into my phone. This is nice since I have made FIFTEEN calls over the past two months trying to get approval for bladder Botox. I recently was told we’re “very close.”
A disadvantage to working from home is realizing just how horrible the stairs in your charming row house are as you haul your uncooperative body up and down them throughout the day.
An advantage to working from home is randomly bursting into tears without scrutiny, which I have done frequently of late.
I am in a trough, friends; it’s a sort of mini-depression inspired by circumstance. I have at least ten ideas about how to improve my lot, from meditating to eating less meat to alternating cardio and strength training to reading more. What do I do instead? Play gin rummy on my phone while listening to podcasts.
Please remember that image next time you think of me as an inspiration. Sometimes I’m strong and brave. These days I’m more likely collapsed on the couch kicking myself for being undercut with a matching Ace.
P.S. I edited this the following day with a properly fastened bra. Perhaps things are looking up?