“Fatigued”…

I’ve just finished a phone call with my dearest friend who has been vacationing with her husband in Thailand for the last six weeks. It’s an annual trip to the other side of the world, yet she doesn’t let distance get in the way of checking in with me every day.

She’s just heading off to bed, and I’m somewhat into my day. ”Day” is a loose definition these days for me, last night was pretty typical for the way things play out. I was up until after 4 am, then up again at 7 am. It’s noon and I’ve not yet felt strong enough to haul myself out of bed (that treat of my daily shower still lays ahead!) Quite simply, it’s pain that keeps me awake. Nothing seems to knock it down enough these days to be able to get decent rest.

We chatted about some difficult matters that require discussing regarding my declining health, and ended our call with recalling my last blog post. “Soldier on by myself” was the term I used, and we began to imagine what that might look like if we were to be literal about it.

It started out with army boots. Getting my socks on these days requires great effort, are army slippers an option? The wheelchair would need to be repainted with camouflage shades (which I wouldn’t mind so much anyway, there’s no way I’d describe the colour as the copper I’d ordered, it’s Halloween-ready with that shade of orange).

Next, the enemy line would need to be very close. No further away than the length of my apartment, that’s about all the steam I have in my arms to propel the chair (it’s also the length of my oxygen hose). And do they make army fatigue yoga pants?

Pretty useless as a soldier, wouldn’t you say? Yet the fight continues whether I’m up for the challenge or not.

My friend and I ended our call as we often do – recalling some funny event from our day. Laughing so hard that it’s hard to finish our sentences, yet knowing each other as well as we do we usually know the words that didn’t get out. As I hung up the phone I wiped away tears of laughter, wondering which wins out more often these days – the tears from laughing, or tears of sadness and pain. I don’t think I want to acknowledge my honest answer to that.