I am swamped at work. I’m running 2 key applications and just got handled a huge chunk of Covid immunization work. Please don’t misunderstand, I’m thrilled, delighted, and proud to do the work (although I do wish my home province would get rather more on board with the idea of immunizing anyone). I am also taking 2 classes this semester. Both of my classes this semester are very cool, but they are both quite technical and I require practice. In the middle is the gentleman caller and trying to make sure I’m available. It’s a lot and it’s typical for me. I prefer it this way, even if it does result in occasional moments of sobbing at my desk.
I’m grumpy and jittery this morning. I woke up early, tripped over the dog, and scowled at the cat. Sat on the couch and stared vacantly for a bit. I have a neurology appointment.
I don’t like the neurology visits. I don’t like the MRI. They are not comforting, they do not make me feel like my disease is more managed. MS and I, for the last several years, have lived in a sort of detente. I make sure that I eat 3 meals a day and get 7.5 hours of sleep a night and it’s ok. I don’t exactly pretend that I’m not sick. I’m just fortunate enough to be able to mostly ignore it.
The doctor, the MRI, the odd sighting of my cane tucked out of the way – they are stalking horses. A reminder that it’s good luck I’m not more compromised by MS. It’s not good management, outrunning this stalking horse. It is luck. You cannot manage luck. Luck stays until it is gone, and then the horse will come. My work, my education, managing my house and garden, the stairs, the pets, my ability to read and knit. I do not know what the horse will take. It may take everything worth having.