Making It

All through this week, I had one out-of-the-home goal in mind. I wanted to go to Slimmons today.

It was a craps shoot at best. I am far from being well, running significant temperatures nightly and often during the day, and very weak. Last week I attempted GLASG, my spinning guild with mixed results. But truth be told, it was so nice to get out of my home (read out of my bed), that for all the negative physical responses, it was worth it. And so with trepidation, I planned in my mind to make an escape this morning.

To go to exercise class when I'm in this condition, on the face of it, is nuts. But Slimmons is an unusual place, and everyone there is quite familiar with my physical challenges. I'd been quite startled by an e-mail correspondance that I had with one of my classmates (read friend) earlier this week, and wanted to go even more because of it. But I was dubious. And so I didn't tell anyone other than Eric of my plans; didn't even e-mail Richard. I didn't want people expecting me and then me not showing up. There is very little that is ruder than being stood up. This is something that I have had a little experience with.

Last night was a good night. Unusual for me, I didn't have a fever, I didn't have night sweats, and I actually fell asleep within a reasonable time frame of taking my nighttime pills. I woke up at 7:30 which gave me a little over two hours to prepare. After laying in bed for about 45 minutes procrastinating, watching the news on TV, and finally being driven out by children's programming, I showered and put my make-up on. Made Oatmeal with 1 Cup Blueberries & 1 TB Raw Sugar for breakfast. Fed the dogs (before eating my own meal). Made my bed. At a quarter to ten, I left for the 45 minute Saturday-morning drive.

I was already fatigued upon leaving. Wondered at the wisedom of this move. Kept driving. But halfway through Coldwater Canyon - yes gals, "The Canyon' - somethng odd happened. I was listening to I-can't-remember-which radio station, contemplating turning around and coming back home, then a string of familiar songs were played all in a row. Not just familiar. Right out of
"Party Off the Pounds". The video that Richard asked me to participate in that was a watershed moment for me and changed my life. As Wendy always says, "It's a sign." I was meant to continue and attend. So I continued on.

Upon arrival, I happily greeted many that I knew, and was also astounded at how many new people had come through the doors. That's both a strength and weakness of Slimmons... the ever-changing cast of students. But I suppose the shuffling of faces is probably the same at all exercise forums and, in fact, I suspect worse in many. It's comforting to me to know that so many have stuck around over the years.

And so I attended "Project Me" and, not completely wasted, "Sweat" class. Don't get the 2nd part wrong. I am not capable of putting out enough energy right now to actually sweat. I spent a little of it shuffling around in slow speed, and more of it planted in a chair doing nothing. But even with the output of energy, I left with more than I came with, was able to do a little West Side shopping, and was home by 2;30.

I won't lie to you. I now feel like I've been run over by a truck. But it was all worth it. No kidding.

Opportunity Missed

Today was "Cimzia" day. Injection day. It hurts.

It consists of two injections made of formulary that needs to be mixed on site right before it's given. What makes it such a painful shot is that rather than being mixed in a water base solution, it's oil. It's thick and viscous and sits like a lump in my stomach and thigh. Yes, it is given over two shots in two different locations because of the nature of the medicine.

The actual injection doesn't hurt... the pain starts about 1/2 hour later. Additionally it makes me feel ill and angry and very emotional. I certainly don't feel like doing much of anything or interacting with anyone, let alone leaving my home once it's done. Which brings me to the point of this post.
I'm angry. I was talking to a very close friend last night who's husband is on disability - short term - and refuses to get off of his behind and do anything for himself or the household. By all accounts, he is well enough to get up and get around and his doctor says that he should get out of the house. Despite all medical evidence saying that exercise promotes healing, he states that he's not moving because he will heal better sitting on his ass.
Meanwhile, I am on the opposite side of the country, having been on disability for years, and desperate to be productive and have my life mean something. I am slowly recovering from being so ill that all I could do is lay in my bed all day long, and maybe sit up long enough to take my pills. I couldn't cook for myself; I couldn't clean or walk the dogs. I couldn't go to exercise class and I certainly was not well enough to be productive in any way.
But as I slowly improved, I was able to sit up, first for just minutes at a time. I knew that my brain was not working correctly, so although I wanted to get back to making jewelry or spinning, knitting, or weaving, I would not be able to put out the creative spirit strong enough to make anything that I would be proud of. And so I learned to make basic "herringbone" stitch in beading (a brainless endeavour) from a book and spent hours making some straight bangle bracelets which I intended to embellish later.
A couple of weeks later and three of the blanks made, I found the creativity burried deep inside of me and was able to complete those projects. And I pulled out a beading book sitting on my shelf and learned a few other techniques out of it. Netting, spiral stitch...
The amount of time that I could sit up and be productive increased. I was able to sit up for an hour or more, and my output grew.
I am pushing hard to make as much jewelry as I can before the holiday season in hopes that I will be well enough to get out and show it to people and maybe sell a piece or three. There is the possibility, of course, that I will not make it in which I will hold onto the pieces and offer them just before Mother's Day.
Meanwhile for now , I am again knocked on my ass by an injection that I think (hope) may be helping my condition overall but certainly in the short term makes me too sick to do much of anything.
I think of this man on the opposite side of the country, and all the people who I have met over the years who actually can affect changes in their lives - who are not hampered by physical issues so great that truly keep them from doing anything - and how they squander the gift that they have been given.

I have friends who I mostly met through Richard's web site that deal with medical issues as serious as my own - their own illnesses and/or their families, physical or emotional; they do make the best they can out of their situations, and they are productive and inspirational. Watching them, I know that I am not alone in my attitude of doing the best that I can.

But then I look at those others... the ones who just sit on their asses and expect the world to cater to them. And I get so angry. At them. For them. For me. At me. For opportunities that others have and do not appreciate and the fact that I do not have the opportunity to do the same. For I certainly would not squander it if it existed.

Three's the Charm

Button box finally located yesterday, I easily found closure buttons for all three bracelets that I've been beading. Attached the buttons, beaded loops to go over them, and voila! The bracelets formerly in progress were done!

I was very pleased. After all, these are the first products from my hands since I got sick. Of course, there's the glass half full, glass half empty syndrome which immediately manifested itself in my mind. Glass half full... if I take my time, I can still produce jewelry which is clearly desirable. Glass half empty, only three bracelets are the sum total of my output since last February. FEBRUARY! Not a lot to show for all those months.

But I think I will not think of the glass as either half full or empty. It is simply at the halfway point. It is what it is; I've made three bracelets which, if I had any idea how much time they would take to make in "real time" I would attach a price on them and offer them for sale.

I guess I'm going to have to make another straight through and see what the time commitment really is.