It was occurring to me this morning that I’m doing surprisingly well for the level of medical care I have been receiving. It helps that I am very consciously doing less. There is less cleaning on the road. I am not gardening much. I am not running around socializing as much as I did in CA and I don’t feel the internal pressure to be helping my neighbors. (I loved my neighbors–don’t get me wrong. But I put a lot of pressure on myself to show up for them when I should have been sitting at home resting.)

Noah agrees that I am doing very well at not exploding. I am not crying all the time. That’s really good.

I am in tremendous pain. But instead of continuing to do lots of work anyway I am going limp. My arms are doing quite badly. My back and hips hurt so much that I am gritting my teeth a lot of the time. That’s not great.

But I am doing incredibly well at not taking it out on anyone else. Given how poorly I feel… I am proud of myself. I am doing quite well at keeping my poop in a group. I have not been screaming. I have not even been shouting much. I am quiet a fair bit. I alternate between mild exercise (I need to be doing my PT and I’m not) and a lot of resting/talking to the family.

The apartment is absolutely always less tidy than I would like. I am choosing to watch extra Netflix instead of cleaning it up because I need to not do more to wear myself out.

I am being a grown up. It’s kind of weird.

I am having some mood swings. I absolutely always feel like I “should” be doing better. But all in all I’m not doing shittily. How long have I been doing ok? I don’t know. Hard to judge.