Let me close June by saying it decisively won over me: my lung situation has gotten so bad I am taking medications I have not needed in years, I am at record weight, and a dread is constantly gripping at me as I fear the return of my really dark times from a lifetime ago.
I am scared, swollen from scalp to toe, literally shaking, and working for every breath. I cannot walk from my bed to the toilet without toil and I talk. like. this. to catch. my breath. Always tired. In pain even when I am just sat.
I am lucky I have the best healthcare available to me from home. If I go to the hospital, I would immediately be sent to isolation to rule out COVID-19. But this predates the pandemic and it will inherit my body in a post-COVID world.
It hurts to be in this situation, physically and spiritually. Every day is a reminder of how I failed to take care of myself, how I failed to protect myself. It is really hard sometimes because I can only control so much. Despite my best efforts, stress has reached my shores, if not unfairly, and here I am burning like Troy.
The problem is I do not recover quickly – I never have. The top pulmonologist in the region has looked after me for over a decade and she still hates me today because “I cannot make you well.” This, even after the best management and a solar system of medications. I guess it is just me.
Of course, life goes on. I am decisively but not completely defeated. I allow myself this small space to explore my negative feelings but no more. At least for today. I will continue to be hopeful and more important, learn from this experience.
The sun will shine tomorrow and there will be more cups of tea. I will probably not be okay, but even that, too, is okay. Someone grind a grilled dead lizard into powder. Maybe that does it.