I’ve started a number of blog posts over the last couple of weeks. Each time, before I could finish the post, things with my health would change and I’d abandon it half-written.
A week ago I was feeling better—not perfect, but better. I could lift a basket of laundry, put the full Brita back into the refrigerator on my own, walk longer distances, and make it through the day without a nap. Exciting stuff, I know. I still had some pain, especially after eating certain foods (likely the result of gallbladder duct spasms), but emotionally I felt so much better. Better than I had in over a year.
It was helpful to read the pathology report, which found that my gallbladder was inflamed, consistent with chronic cholecystitis. Perhaps it’s odd that this made me so happy, but I had been worried that I would get it out and it would look perfectly healthy. Instead, it confirms that I made the right decision.
But then last week I developed some mystery pain on my left side, and I began to worry about all sorts of (probably unlikely) things, and I was right back in that place I had been most of the last year, second-guessing everything. I began to worry that I’d made the wrong decision (not a helpful or productive line of thought).
I’m hopeful that things will turn around very soon. In the meantime, I’m teaching and editing and trying to write a little every day. I’m walking and swimming again. Today was the first time I’d been in the pool in over six months. I was slow, but still, my body remembered how to slice through water, my arms pulling, legs kicking, head turning to breathe every couple of strokes. I felt muscles that hadn’t worked in months come to life again.
So I’ll keep showing up and try to be patient, and hopefully soon I will feel like myself again.