Fatigue. It’s such a simple word unless you have it and understand the depth of the meaning on your body and brain. I am weary. Struggling to think. Almost called off work, but somehow convinced myself to log in. I don’t have to do much thinking in my new job, just sit here in my jammies and let the hours slip by. I can do that.
The kids are home again, after another ice storm made them cancel school. They are so good and quiet and while I work, such good kids I have. I had leftover pancakes in the freezer, warmed them up and turned on a movie. Sounds easy. But today it was a struggle and only pure strength and the ease of a familiar routine got me going.
Everything hurts today. My muscles are tight and crampy. My joints are swollen, angry, and almost itchy.
And yet here I am, happy to be alive, marveling at the clean white snow covered world outside my window. Laughing at my dog as he tunnels his nose deep into the snow and comes up sneezing and chasing the very snow he tossed about. That old guy still acts like a puppy sometimes and it brings me joy. He comes in from the cold with stiff legs and walk slowly, but he doesn’t seem to mind, because the joy of the snow overpowers his pain, I think.
So I will take some Nsaids every few hours, some extra coffee is already brewed, some extra vitamin B is already in me, and I’ll try to make this a good day by fighting the urge to get back under a blanket and hide. I did the toughest part already, getting out of the blanket in the first place, so I know I can handle the rest.
Take that fatigue – you don’t own me!