Painful Reminders

I was sick a few days last week before finally admitting defeat around 5 PM Friday evening. After realizing the severity of my condition I went to priority care on Saturday morning when we found out I had pneumonia and was given a 5 day course of antibiotics. Unlike my normal response to a zpack I found myself being unable to get up and around for very long without needing my inhaler and experiencing excruciating chest pain. The only thing that brought relief was laying completely still in bed. I mean completely, there were times I couldn’t even stay focused on what I had put on tv to keep my mind occupied. I would lay there staring up at the ceiling praying for relief.

If you have known me longer than a year, ok, maybe a month even, you know I am stubborn. I set a goal, work to crush it and if I don’t well, there’s usually an onslaught of negativity I bring upon myself until I get over it and set a new goal and repeat the process. Last week, those first few days my goal was make it through the work day and crash. That worked, temporarily. On Friday, I could barely make it through and the longer I put off resting the worse it got. I did what I had to do as a mom then gave up.

I don’t give up easily. Again, I’m stubborn. It wasn’t until in the quiet of the morning as I lay in bed that I had a realization that changed my perspective about this set back. That first night of defeat was tough for me, but I knew my body was winning. Every time I get sick, or even just have a twinge of pain I get scared. You see, I remember a time, not so long ago, when my life was ruled by pain and the depression that accompanies it. I remember days when I couldn’t be the mom, wife or friend I was created to be because I was so sick and in so much pain I couldn’t leave my bed. Here I am on day 5 of being so sick I can’t leave my bed. 5 days. Every day represents 2.5 years that I spent in that condition. Granted, it wasn’t always completely bedridden back then, but I may as well have been. I wasn’t a good mom. I couldn’t work. I was a horribly mean wife and hate how needy I was.

Why has this illness this week been so hard for me mentally? Because deep down I know what it is like to live every day trapped inside my own body. To have a fully functioning mind that is capable of so much that is limited by a weak external shell. I spent years trapped in that body. I don’t want to go back there, and even just a few days is reminder enough.

I had started to take this “new” body for granted. Instead of being grateful that I could exercise and cycle, I was bitter. I was grieving the loss of my ability to run. That loss was also a reminder that my “new” body isn’t as strong as it should be. That was the beginning of a return to the unhealthy me. I knew it was just a matter of time before I was fat, ugly and unhealthy again. Here I am, 30 lbs heavier than I want to be, and bedridden because my stupid body doesn’t work the way it should.

I have a choice to make today. One that will change how this story ends. I can keep wallowing in the woe is me mentally, or I can get back to fighting. Today fighting for my health doesn’t mean going out to run 10 miles, as much as I wish it did. Today fighting for my health starts with wining the mental battle that says I’m too weak and fat so I may as well give up. It would be so easy just to let this be the beginning of the end of my health journey. It clearly looks like I’m losing doesn’t it? Would anyone say that I’m healthy in any way right now?

But I know better. I know that even though I can’t run 10 miles, I am stronger than I was. The old me stopped fighting. The reason I spent so many years trapped inside that body and unhealthy mindset was because I had given up. I didn’t have any hope. But now I know that there’s hope, and a better way. I know what’s it is like to be healthy enough to care for my family, work, and take care of my body by exercising. I can get up and walk (well maybe not far today but soon). I can still lift weights. I can still cycle (when my lungs recover).

This morning I’ve been reminded that while I will be shackled to this weak exterior for my entire lifetime, I don’t have to let it confine me. Things may not look great right now, but there’s always hope. I refuse to let my kids have a mom who can’t be there for them. I refuse to be a lazy wife whose husband has to bear the burden of her and her children on his own. I refuse to not contribute to society as a whole by serving in my community and workplace. I can do all those things, even though I’m not as healthy as I could be. Those are my reasons to keep fighting. Despite my weaknesses, I will fight to be strong. What are you fighting for? Are you reasons for fighting for it stronger than your excuses not to?