counting the blessings

It's been a rough week. Just when you think you've maxed out on the yuck, there it is... more yuck. Emotions turn into headaches and nausea and achey muscles so easily. And yet holding in my emotions right now is simply not an option as the meds attack the boogers in my brain and leave me wearing every little piece of my heart out on my sleeve. And the taste of all of the meds that I can't shake from my tongue continuously irks me and stresses me out, leading to more emotions, leading to more headaches and nausea and achey muscles. It's a vicious cycle. And so now that the kiddos are both back in school again, I going to try to get back into meditating...  be vigilant about avoiding stress...  be very choosey about how I spend my time... and am hoping to go for some equine-assisted therapy, after Deena drove me to a neighboring farm last night to visit with the horses after I lost it a bit when Noah jokingly locked me out of the house. Their presence was so very soothing for me, and this calls to me.

And once again, I find myself revisiting the intense discomfort around asking for help. It's so very difficult to not feel like I'm asking too much, or like I'm taking advantage of people. It takes everything in me to trust that there is no scorecard, to shed the guilt of not being able to reciprocate right now and be grateful, and yet, I find myself baking cookies when I can barely stand long enough in the kitchen to do so, gifting chocolate, writing thank you notes, giving away my art, and doing whatever else I can to somehow make up for just a fraction of the help I receive.

A couple of days ago, I received a phone call from one of the kind people who was helping me get Zoe home during her first year of high school. It wasn't an ideal situation...  I still had to drive the twenty minutes or so to meet them on the outskirts of town, but for the most part, I was able to avoid the chaos of downtown traffic, and for them, it was on their way home. Unfortunately, when I had to venture in and pick up Zoe all the way in town, I wasn't able to give rides home to all of the other girls because there was less room in my car due to my having Noah with me as well...  and so I helped out as much as I could... got out of my car to thank them each time they dropped off Zoe except for those days when my body wouldn't allow it... and baked cookies...  and bought chocolate... yadayadayada... but evidently, it wasn't enough.

It turns out that she and one of the other moms had been talking, and had come to the conclusion that it was no longer fair that I wasn't doing more of the driving. Mind you, as school was inching closer, I was already in a panic about driving the shorter twenty minute jaunt as my treatment gets harder, and now this. So this (brief, because I ended up basically hanging up on her) phone call seemed to throw me off of the edge of an emotional cliff. I found myself questioning every relationship, every favor, every intention. Weeping uncontrollably. Feeling like there was no one out there to lean on. Finding myself wanting to scream, "You wanna know what's not fair???  Fucking lyme disease is not fair!!! Losing my business and my income is not fair! Losing my ability to go for a hike or do a normal yoga pose or write without getting a headache is not fair!"

A good night's sleep and some amazing compassion and kindess from my facebook friends brought back some perspective...   thankfully out of loser-ness, and into gratitude again. The fact is, we never know what another person faces...  and it's not my job to presume what her story is.  I used to find so much pleasure in people-watching and creating sagas in my head about where folks were going, what they were doing, who they were underneath the surface of their bodies. But those were my stories, not theirs. And so while I'm not completely void of the hurt I felt after the phone call, I can atleast remind myself that she has her own stuff going on, and that her words were really not about me.

But truth is, I'm terrified. Today is Zoe's first day of school, and I will be going all the way into town to pick her up later. I'm not sure how I'll be feeling. The addition of xylitol and lactoferrin this week has really intensified things, as they are biofilm busters, and evidently, I've got some biofilms goin' on! Yesterday, I had a mild fever and a dull headache that just wouldn't go away. Last night I had a dream that someone shot me in the head, and I woke up this morning with the same doggone headache. I've been chugging so much water that I have to pee every five minutes and it's better now, and I am hoping that the upswing will continue. Deena assures me that if come this afternoon I am feeling really bad, she will either pick up Zoe herself, or find someone who will....  and I trust that all will be well. But I'm still a bit shaken, wondering how we're going to cope as we head into the most intense treatment phase of all, not sure if I'll be able drive at all.

But despite all that, there is much to be grateful for... and what I'm really here to do today is to count my blessings.

There is my friend, Carol, who I've known since our daughters were still growing inside our bellies, who is willing to help in whatever way she can, and who is like family to me.

There is our neighbor, Tracy, who has the biggest heart I've ever seen, and is willing to drop everything and pick up the kids if she's not already busy, and always comes out for a catchin' up if she's home when I'm out walking the dog.

There is Marna, who emails me a sweet love note every single time I write something on this blog, and Carol, who almost always responds with supportive and compassionate comments.

There is Jaci, who spontaneously invites us to swim in her pool and offers up other healing things as well, and just makes me feel so loved even though I hardly ever get to see her.

There's Anne, my doc, who always answers my emails, and confirms that yes, this sucks, and yes, we are on the path to healing, and urges me to cry and get it out and reminds me of the spiritual journey I am on.

There's Terry and Paula, a couple of the wild women who continue to humble me by their love and deep friendship long after circle is over, and there are all of the other wild women who conintue to tug on the red thread from time to time, reminding me that we are still connected.

There is Whitney and Missy, who even with their own lives being topsy turvy, both pause to send me  texts letting me know they're thinking about me and reminding me of my own power.

There's Kyeli, who skypes with me every two weeks from across the country, and Brandie, who occasionally sends me a card in the mail, and countless, dear and precious people on Facebook who are always looking out for me, even though I will likely never meet many of them in person.

There are my parents and Deena's parents, who are constantly helping to fill in the enormous financial gaps with me not working and needing all this medical care. Although their profound support doesn't stop there...  I'm not sure how we ever got so lucky to be born into our families.

There is Zoe, who is always willing to overdose on games of Parcheesi with me just to distract me from my pain, and there is Noah, who makes me laugh with the quirky things that come out of his mouth, and inspires me with his own ferocious appetite for health in the form of a six-pack.

There's Deena, who loves me more than I ever imagined anyone loving me, and who is always there, no matter how crazy I get.

And there are so many more that my lyme-brain won't let me remember at the moment.

I am so gosh darn blessed.