Erasing the evidence

I'm here in bed with my laptop, catching up on this and that as I rest. I look around and today I just don't like what I see.

Across from the bed is a cabinet, and on top you'd see rows of pill bottles, a pill organizer, a pill splitter, blood pressure cuff, vitamins, and notes written at my doctor & hospital visits. Very organized and neat (this is still me after all!) but today it makes me cringe.

Since early this year this has been the room where I've spent a great deal of time recovering from surgery, dealing with the physical limitations that my illness places upon me (and those from the side effects of all these #$#$ drugs!) This week was especially tough and often it felt like even the short walk across the room was too far to go for the next dose of pills.

Enough. Really. I'm reclaiming this bedroom as a sanctuary.

Yes, I do need to spend more time here than I would like - but it has to become a more peaceful place for me. All this medical stuff is going into the cabinet, rather than on top in full view.

There's no chance at all that hiding them away will cause me to forget to take my meds. The simple act of waking up each morning sets off the meds schedule of "take upon waking" , "take one hour before first meal", "take with breakfast" etc. - you get it, I live by the clock and my meal schedule these days.

I'm feeling quite a bit better today than I have in days. So while I have the energy, I'm getting up to put all these reminders of my illness into hiding. I just don't need the evidence staring me in the face!