As mentioned previously, we've had a very interesting time the past year or so. One of the things that has made it so not-boring is my chronic illness. First, we have no idea what it is. Second, the few doctors I've seen have been, well, unhelpful. And third, we are convinced that God is doing this on purpose.
But I thought that you might enjoy today's hilarious example of what my current life is like.
I've been planning to go to the bank for three days, and this afternoon I finally felt that I was energetic and alert enough to make the ten minute drive. I succeeded, and was so proud of myself that I decided to do a second errand. I drove three minutes down Poplar Ave to the clinic I'd visited several times last year to sign a form that would allow them to fax my info to my new primary care doctor. I got there, walked in and heard and remembered all the instructions for filling out the form. That may sound simplistic to you, but I was noticing that I was getting wobbly in the legs and that my brain was starting to allocate attention to either my body, or my eyes, or my ears.
I made it to a chair without falling over (hoorah!) and proceeded to fill out the form. I was displeased that my handwriting kept changing - it started out all pretty and roundy, and then went all tall and skinny and a little crooked, then went sorta short and janky. But I got it done.
While I was waiting for the other two patients to finish with the receptionist so I could turn my form back in, I almost fell asleep in the chair. So I studied the waiting room trying to keep awake: I judged the cords hanging out of the wall where the TV used to be, appreciated the neatly placed business cards in their holders, judged the one pamphlet that was crooked, nodded fondly to the wooden fiddly toy in the corner, and wondered why they had chosen to paint the dolphin orange.
The receptionist became available and I jumped up before she could close the sliding glass window. Then it got really funny. I waited while she went over the form to make sure it was correct, and I tried to smile, but I don't think it quite reached my eyes.....she looked a little nervous. Then she told me that everything was good and started to say, "Thank you," but I, anticipating the phrase and trying to ready my response, accidentally beat her to it and overrode her Thank You with my own. Then she tried to wish me a nice day, and now I don't remember what I said, but I accidentally interrupted her again.
Deeply wishing for this awkward interaction to end, I smiled, nodded, spun a 180 and started walking toward the door. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had not fallen over, and cheerfully comforted myself with a, "Well, I'm not dead yet!"
That is when I started wondering if I should be operating a one and a half ton death trap. I answered that question with a decided NO when I realized I was trying to put my key in the wrong car. But I was alone and, being a responsible adult, decided to drive myself home anyway. I took the most familiar route, and, as far I remember, there were no incidents.
I am now completely out of actionable energy. My body feels one of those weird, water tube toys, and I'm tired. So I'm going play video games now.
