If You Have to Take a Lot of Stuff...

...it is best to store it all in your prettiest bowl so you can smile at it three times a day!

Fall is the Finest

I love fall. I love it so much that my house interior is painted in the high fall colors of yellow, orange, red, deep green, sky blue...ten colors in all. Fall is my very favorite season.

Every three to four days I get to ride through a long canyon and beside shimmering reservoir to receive IV treatments. And every three to four days, that canyon looks different as the leaves become more brilliant with color. They reflect off the water and contrast against the ever-changing sky. On overcast days, sharp rays of sunshine slice through the clouds sometimes to give certain mountainsides a sun bath and illuminate the trees' glory. What wonders!

I would never be this exposed to nature's cornucopia of hues in my favorite season were it not for these biweekly treatments. It enlivens my fibers and makes me so happy to be enfolded in these colors. God is so good to me.

"...What We Have Within the Moment is Enough."

The other day my phlebotomist friend asked me to put pressure on the spot where my IV had been. (Note: become friends with the people who regularly stab you. ;) This gal and I have talked a lot and grown close; she had chronic Lyme disease and aggressively treated it to the best of her ability with four-ish IVs every other day through a PICC line, plus oral medicine, for a whole year and a half. She still has it because it's a critter that seems to linger, but she does occasional treatments and says she's doing a lot better.

"So this is treatment number four? Are you starting to feel any better?" she asked.

"Well..." I thought. Was I?

"I mean, not great or anything, but are you noticing any good changes?"

And you know...? I didn't rightly know just then. My inner elbow hurt. Then the lightbulb came on and I said, "I actually think so!"

"Like maybe ten percent?" as she gathered up the tubing.

"I don't know, but I think I AM doing better!"

What I was remembering was the day I did laundry for an hour that week. It has been MONTHS since I washed anything. That was progress! Serious progress!

For the last two weeks I've lolled around on the couch, tired but unable to sleep, and wanting to read and study but lacking memory and focus. So I found what yarn I had in the house and crocheted. I created! And not just created: I created big projects. Ba-BAM!

I tolerate the medicine better now than I did at the start. Body, you rock! Give me a booyah!

Today it rained, but it tickled me inside. I'm over some major humps of emotion issues related to years of illness. Can I get a big fat YAHOO?

I folded two baskets of laundry today. My "Ta Da!" list is growing I tell you!

And as I folded, I marveled at my washing machine and dryer. What marvels! I felt angels press close to me as I admired these machines that my ancestors never would have dreamed of. I felt them press close as I delighted in the workmanship of the clothes I folded and put away. The fabric was spun and dyed into beautiful colors and patterns, the the seams were secure and the buttons and zippers all worked. I added clean scarfs to my scarf collection and smiled at the feelings each one invoked. Golly, there is just beauty everywhere. And I just got to fold two basketfuls of it. Those angels pressed closer and imbibed me with unspeakable gratitude for the wonder of the moment.

It's human to have ups and downs, and I've had more down moments than ups for years. But how grateful I was for that moment.

I watch the show "Call the Midwife" and appreciated this insight by the aged Nurse Jenny Lee:

"Perfection is not a polished thing. It is often simply something that is sincerely meant. Perfection is a job complete, praise given, prayer heard. It can be kindness shown, thanks offered up. Perfection is what we discover in each other, what we see reflected back. And if perfection eludes us, that doesn't matter. For what we have within the moment is enough."

Am I making progress? I don't know physically. But I know about the present moment, and it is perfect. All is well in my world. Everything is as it should be. The future is just the present that hasn't happened yet, and so it is wondrous and perfect too. My "progress" is fine, and it is enough. This present I live in is a magnificent gift.

I was going to end there, but it got ever so quiet just now and I could hear my heart beating in my ear. Do you even know how cool our hearts are? I have carried hearts and turned them over in my hands. I have studied the multiplicities of what we know about their electric current and the nature of the cell types. I have monitored multiple people's heart rhythms through the night and just cried at what miracles they are. This, to me, is the most beautiful of all the organs.

Take a moment and feel your heart. Thank it for serving you all this time without ever resting. That's unconditional love. Think of Who that love comes from, Who gives us daily breath. Every present moment of our lives is full of unconditional love as it beats within our chests.

I Do So Delight in the Rain!

It is one of my favorite things!

*air quotes* "Under the Influence"

These entries are being written under the influence of an antibiotic, actually, which gets right in my brain. It throws off my equilibrium, sense of balance, concentration, and memory. (But apparently, it doesn't diminish my word volume. Sorry--for YOU! Haha.)

It's actually quite blissful state; my not-myself-ness is pleasantly confused sometimes, forgetful, clumsy, tipsy, and maybe a bit too blunt. It's fascinating to be on the inside of these feelings. It's fantastic!

I'm like an old lady! I've always wanted to be an old lady. Old ladies get to do and say everything, and they're adored for it, even given titles like spirited, spunky, flamboyant. Their oddities are actually their strengths. Hmm, I'd rather like some oddities.

I mentioned on the sidebar that I am a recovering perfectionist. Being this unwieldy is curing me even more of trying to be perfect.

My taller half is careful with me in public and gives me his arm. He sees the way I walk at home. I promise I've never had a drink of ETOH. Please know he doesn't bring a drunk wife out to church or wherever. If you see me walking straight, maybe I skipped the morning dose so I could appear in public. (The things I do for you!!)

You know, it's nice to have obvious weakness, because I feel real. I rejoice in weakness and in needing assistance in...oh what was it again?I feel like Neville Longbottom with his remembrall. I know I've forgotten something...I just can't remember what.

Ok. All I wanted to tell you is that my brain's not right at the moment. Rambling is a good old lady quality though, so since we're here I'll embrace it. I have such joy in these moments.

Ozone: Not Just For the Atmosphere

I'm not going to explain chronic Lyme disease here. Look it up. My purpose is to delight myself by writing, and explaining Lyme is so "ew."

I'm also not going to explain the mechanism of ozone with UV light therapy. Look that up too. But as an update, I'm getting IV infusions twice a week. Here's what I look like getting them if I choose to use hairspray (um, sorry ozone layer? I'm such a taker!) and chapstick.



This method disrupts the Lyme spirochetes and make me feel like a truck hit me. But it's cool, because you have to get worse before you get better. Am I right? That "dang, this is hard" moment is when you grow in faith.

For myself, I like metaphors and built a little raft out of faith and have embarked on this journey. It floats me where God wants me to be. He shows me the coolest things from my raft. I even love the storms because I know I can't sink with Him guiding me; plus there's beauty before and after.

I Need a Ride

I'm in such a conundrum.

I'm too old for a stroller and too young for a jazzy. But I decided sometimes I just need a ride!

This summer there was a day when we went to the zoo. My kids have the stamina to not need a stroller anymore, so I carried a full lunch and my purse stuff in my old college backpack. Before we even went up, even the week before, I knew I didn't have the energy to go. But my kids need fun memories and new experiences, right? And a bunch of out-of town family would be there! So I put my big girl denim skirt on and we went.

We trekked around for a few hours with a lunch break full of the good stuff in the middle. (I'm now the cleanest eater, like, ever.) Grandparents and aunties were there to chase my peeps around, but I felt like death despite my optimism. I endured without complaint, because dang it, that's just who I am. For the next five days though, I was dysfunctional and on physically mandatory bed rest. I had embarked to the zoo with zero reserves--no actually, negative reserves. No bueno! My energy is like an allowance sometimes, and I spent like two weeks of it that day. Now my allowance is even slimmer!

I've matured (and made other similar experiences) a lot since then. I've dropped expectations for myself and learned to say NO to myself when I want to do everything. I've realized my kids are equipped to handle a sickish mom. I've let go of pride some. I'm not as much of a perfectionist, because that's just "ew."

I've also started on Lyme disease treatment, and if I had zero stamina at the zoo, I have negative fifty now. If you ever see me in public, know that I feel like I'm about to keel over most of the time. Like, for reals.

So yeah, I'm in the market for MY OWN SET OF WHEELS for field trips, memory making, getting out for long hauls. For temple square, bridal veil falls, thanksgiving point gardens, the zoo, museum hopping. I don't have to exert! I can sit! By gum, I can even get pushed around! SWEET.

I'm the nurse who pushed people with wheels. Weird to be in the chair, but I'm strangely really ok with that for this season of my life.

My body is in no condition to exert, but my brain (though forgetful, foggy, and fatigued) wants to get out with my peeps and make memories!

My taller half is on board with one requirement. I found a cool second-hand transport chair this morning, but he said he didn't like it because he wanted to be able to do tricks with it.

"Tricks? What tricks?" I asked.

"You know, like popping wheelies! You've never popped wheelies?" said he.

"I've always been the one pushing the chair!" I said.

I know that would end badly for me. I already walk like a drunken sailor. Like, for reals.

So I need to add that to the list of requirements: must be able to handle cool tricks done by my taller half.

The end.

Well HI internet audience!

Welcome to this new blog! I hope it's short-lived, but eh, you never can tell with Lyme disease.

My witticisms will delight and/or appall you. But either way, here they are.