Sometimes I try to think about what the theme of this blog is, and I mostly think it's about trying like hell to get yourself healthy again all odds and in the face of a lot of really discouraging life stuff. It is hard, like my little Sisyphus gif to the left, not to let yourself get worn down by this stuff. Really hard. And the trouble is that health is not about one huge burst of effort; it's about day to day to day to day small incremental choices. It takes a lot of effort to make the right choices again and again, especially when it's hard to see that they're getting you anywhere. Sometimes you just want to quit and go get a pizza. Sometimes you do quit and go get a pizza. But the trouble is that you just have to get back on the horse, every time, because at the end of the day, there aren't any other choices.
It has just been hard here lately. I don't say this in the rest of my life because... well, I don't know. Because there's no one to say it to, I guess. Because I don't feel comfortable saying, I can't shake this ocean of sadness. Because I don't feel comfortable saying, life, at the moment, is hard.
Michael is losing weight, which in the grand scheme of things is great, but it's slow (although actually pretty fast by any reasonable standard). But it hasn't made much of a difference to his physical problems, not yet. And he is so discouraged because he's really no closer to being able to walk without terrible pain and feeling unstable all the time. This has only been aggravated by the rounds of doctors that we've been seeing lately... the regular guy (conclusion: Michael's iron count is really low, take some iron, see some more doctors), the lung guy (conclusion: everything is ok; it's just hard to breathe when you're fat), and the two doctors we see on Friday. He's tired of being poked, and the walking and getting up and down and up and down doesn't help his knee. He's just so low, and it kills me to see him like this... plus it doesn't help how I feel, either. I really realized this last week when he started taking iron and suddenly, wow, he was a little like his old self again. And I felt light; I felt like maybe I could cope with everything.
This week hasn't been like that.
There's no conclusion here, nothing upbeat at the end. This all will pass. I hope.
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2 comments:
Nina,
You've got to be one of the strongest people I know of, because most people would use the discouragement as an excuse to never get back on the wagon again. Have the pizza, but just eat the toppings.
Has Michael been tested for rickets? Just a hunch.
I'm praying that next week is a better one for you two.
I don't know... it's just what you do, isn't it? I mean, there's kind of nowhere to go to just give up. Although some days, I feel exactly like that.
The silly/ironic thing is I was sort of joking about the pizza, but I had a bunch of my students over last night to work on the competition that we do this time of year, and I got pizza for them. And I did have a slice, and it was *horrible*. Sweet. The crust just tasted intensely, weirdly sweet. (Then I had another slice with just the topping, which was better but not a lot). You quit eating sugar entirely, and all of a sudden you realize just how much sugar there actually IS in things like pizza dough and bread.
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