I consider myself a reasonable person. Truly, I do. When this thing in my head was diagnosed, it was clear that there’d be a recovery period. I accepted that and was suitably grateful for being able to teach two weeks after the surgery. The physical and occupational therapy made sense and I both worked hard and tried to be graceful about the whole thing. That all seemed like playing the hand we’d been dealt. This ongoing limbo state, though, where things are not quite right and little way to predict when or if they ever will be, well, I’m tired of it. Yeah, yeah, I know, I don’t get to choose. And, I’m acutely aware that it could be much worse and that I continue to be lucky in how it’s been and how it’s going. I am both completely fed up with the situation and counting my blessings at the same time. This is conflicting in yet another dimension with my self-image, as it does not seem reasonable at all. Yet it's where I am. C’est la vie, I guess.
On Friday at PT, I had a strange little episode of lightheadedness consistent with the others that have been a part of recent life, so much so that they went and fetched the doctor. He and I chatted and concluded that the only sensible choice here is to keep pushing on with the steroid reduction. Only after we see what the situation is will there be any way to put together a plan for the future. Still, I’m tired of feeling so little like myself and with so energy. It’s a strange cycle: I get fed up, fulminate some, though not too much, as I don’t have the energy for a full-bore rant, then get some perspective and pull back and see the bigger picture. The big picture is full of gratitude and blessings-counting. Then a day like yesterday happens (first day of skipping the steroid entirely) and other than going to get an H1N1 shot, I do basically nothing and get fed up again. It’s very, very frustrating.
So, enough of all that. I’m trying to stay aware of the reality that we don’t notice symptoms we’re not having. Though they’re vexing and inconvenient when present, the balance and lightheadedness can vanish for hours or days at a time, and it’s only upon their reappearance that I’ve been noticing that they’d previously been gone. I’m aiming to do better with that and to notice and celebrate when I’m feeling steady on my feet and energetic. The next time I have a head full of ideas and start making a list, I’m going to celebrate that, too. At this lower steroid dose, I’m also remembering what it’s like not to feel hungry all the time, and that is also worth celebrating.
No classes at the university this week, so my aspiration is to get back to the writing. First, though, I need to finalize syllabi for next semester and get the books ordered. It’s likely to take some time to get through that, because the law school runs its own bookstore and I’ve never before used whatever the campus system is. Every time I do one of these things, I learn anew how cushy life was at the law school. I don’t miss it, it’s just that I tend to underestimate the time it takes to navigate the larger campus systems.
We look to be having one of our last really warm, beautiful days, so walk in the park here I come, I hope.