I Get To

I get to

Tonight, I get to

I don't get to every day

Because most days aren't that great

But tonight, I get to

Because my thinking isn't too foggy

And the fatigue isn't too heavy for me to type legibly and intelligibly

Or at least somewhat, anyway

Tonight I get to because I'm not drugged up on medication, or en route somewhere when I know I shouldn't be traveling

Tonight I get to

Tonight I get to write

Yet tonight, when I finally can, writer's block gets the best of me.  I can't seem to dig up anything notably creative or cleverly anecdotal. Instead, my default is to turn to the factual.

Like the four year old who asked me last Thursday evening if I would also be leaving the following morning.  I told him no, but explained I would soon be heading to Colorado.

"Do you know where Colorado is?" I inquired.

"Of course I know where it is," he insisted. "Colorado is where Paleontologist Daniel Fischer found a mastodon." He spoke his dinosaur geography like it was an obvious association to Colorado that everyone should know about.

Confession: I didn't know.  (Nor did I know how to spell mastodon without the assistance of spell check and google.)

Colorado also happens to be the state where the shooting star guy (see previous post) resides. Against my better judgment, I agreed to let him buy me a plane ticket for me to fly out to see him.

Yes, I want to see him, but I know better than to be traveling - and especially by plane.  I've avoided airplane travel since last summer, when I wasn't so sure I'd make it off the plane alive. I remember getting on the plane thinking, this could be it.  Not because I feared the plane might crash.  Rather, I feared my heart might give out on me before we landed.

Last June and July, especially, my body struggled to get enough oxygen. Although my ferritin level of 12 was considered fine by the labs, by God's grace I found an article on running that explained a ferritin level below 30 can cause all sorts of problems - like breathing issues and heart palpitations. 
Within a week of being back on iron, I no longer feared I might be dying.  The breathing issues subsided, and I hoped the heavy fatigue and headaches would eventually cease too.

But they haven't.

But I get to.

I get to because I occasionally have a good day or two in between the bad.

And I get to because I have parents who let me live with them at their lake home until my health can be figured out.

And I get to because I have a 401 K I can borrow from or cash in, once my credit card is maxed out.

And I get to travel, even when I'm not feeling it, because I have 4 friends getting married this summer and I wouldn't want to miss their wedding celebrations.

And I get to spend time with shooting star guy, because he believes I'm worth pursuing even though I'm not all that put together at this point in my life.

I get to because of God's grace.

And, last week, I FINALLY got to see the doctor who may have found the answer to what has been going on with my body.  More soon.

Shooting Stars

"What would you wish for if you saw a shooting star?" I asked.

It was shortly after midnight on a moon-less night.  The stars shone bright on the dark tapestry of the night.  And we layed on the deck staring up at them. 


sand lake: the deck before dark

"I can't tell you, otherwise it won't come true."  He explained.

"But we haven't seen a shooting star.  It shouldn't matter." I argued. 

I answered my own question in my head, and then pushed the matter some more with him.  "Come on, we're hypothetically speaking.  If you saw a shooting star, what would you wish for?"

He paused and then finally answered, "I'd wish for you to get your health back."

He pulled me in a bit closer to side, and I looked over to him and said, "Yeah, me too."

We had both hypothetically wished for the same thing.  He and I know any sort of us or potential future is on hold until I can get better.

I'm still not.  And although we've linked my health troubles to my time in Africa two summer ago, we still don't have a conclusive diagnosis.   I'm not sure why I write "we." I'm still an I. 

Just moments after sharing our hypothetical wishes, we saw a shooting star together.  The question remains, will our wish someday come true?

At the end of May I returned to New York to spend time with "him" and to meet with my doctor.  Finally, he agreed with what I suggested two years ago - I wasn't doing so well because of something I picked up in Africa.  My doc prescribed some meds, hoping they would do the trick.

paromomycin

On June 16th I took my last round of 7, hoping my health would return...

I'm still seeking answers.