For the Time Being

Well, gentle readers. Here we are. 

It’s now been two months and almost a week since I quit my job as Regaled Mammogram Aide and became a Full Time Well I’m Not Sure What. But who’s counting? The Yowling Beast of fibromyalgia has claimed my full attention, for the time being. FOR THE TIME BEING. I must insist upon this point. Not only to you, dear readers, but to myself as well. 

I’ve been employed pretty much since basically Forever, with a few bouts and weeks of non-employment. There was this one time in 2008 where I was without a job for ONE MONTH, and there was this other time in 2011 where I was seeking work FOR SIX MONTHS, and I nearly died. I’m not a workaholic, mind you (as soon as I clock out…SARAH OUT! drop mic). I just like having something mildly productive to do and have something to show for the day. Oh, and the paychecks are good too. I like to eat. But more on that later. 

All this to say, the past couple months have been…weird. 

I am not kidding you when I say it took me a solid THREE WEEKS to calm down after my last day of work. Like I could finally relax and accept all this TIME as my own. And allow it to be a good thing. 

You see, it took me a looooong time to accept the need to quit my job. As my long-suffering and handsome spouse can attest. I didn’t want to GIVE IN. Accept defeat. I’d been fighting through the pains, the fatigue, the brain fog, the lack of good times with friends and family for sooooo long that I was determined to JUST KEEP GOING. Stick it to the man. Pull myself along. Prove to myself, and to those around me, that I am STRONG ENOUGH and GOOD ENOUGH and all these health concerns can just shove it. 

But regardless of the rest, the exercise, the bouts of physical therapy, the madness of trying out new medicines like swimsuits in January, the countless doctor’s visits and subsequent disappointments, the different diets, the fevered research on the internet and the library, the scaling back of activities and commitments, procedures and recovery times, I just couldn’t. Not anymore. One more thing had to give, and that was my….JOB. SAY IT AIN’T SO. 

Accepting the ever-pressing need to slow down even more and become a full time Stay at Home Person was hard enough. But accepting others’ reactions was TRICKY. Well-meaning people shared their very real concerns about this decision. This was a huge thing, after all, and there was potential to be concerned. Would I ever leave the couch after this? I still struggle with those worries, because of course I’d already had them myself.  And I’ll be honest, there have been a lot of days since then that I haven’t left the couch or the house. Because I’m chronically in pain. These days have crushed me more than the actual pain, the actual fatigue. Because I get afraid that my whole life will become not leaving the couch. Really afraid. 

So in the past couple months, I’ve watched a lot of tv from my couch, yes. Bravo for the Property Brothers. I cite them for not going clinically insane. But! I’ve also read a LOT. Still working on my BBC Top 100 Novels project. I read Dune by Frank Herbert this summer. That is a whole other post, my friend. A whole other post. Like the Seven Labors of Hercules, I labored my way through The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt (author of The Secret History which I DO LOVE). Cannot resist side note here: Seriously, Pulitzer Prize Committee? I also read The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguru, which made me cry and feel all the feels. I even read some NON-FICTION, which should come as a surprise to all of us. Reread some Frederick Buechner, which is always refreshing, and For the Love by Jen Hatmaker, deliciously hilarious and thought-provoking. 

My house is also a little more organized. I couldn’t help it. I had more time to see what needed doing. I went through books and clothes and kitchen things and donated and consigned a TON. Golly, that felt good. And I had time to decide I needed to do a detox and elimination program, which Ben and I both currently doing. Day 5, people. Day 5. Green smoothies galore. So far, nothing to report but many dirtied dishes, new and very tasty cooking adventures (chicken stock from scratch?! What are you serious??) and questionable bathroom times. But it is ONLY Day 5 so far. Hold fast. 

Insert Necessary Food Thoughts Here. Another thing that the Fibro Beast has taken is my LOOSE PAIR OF JEANS THAT I SAVE FOR EMERGENCIES. Take my gluten and dairy? Whatever. Make me question conventional cleaning and beauty products? I don’t even care anymore. Make me go without coffee for this cleanse? I do care, but WHAT MUST BE MUST BE. But MY EMERGENCY JEANS??? This is CRUEL AND UNUSUAL PUNISHMENT. I accept that I now must make up REASONS to move about, and I DO. Currently able to “exercise” (or as I say, GENTLY MOVE) more than I ever have with this blasted condition. More days than not, you can find me huffing on my stationary bike or getting lapped at the track by the Santa Claus with the huge headphones. And now I’m doing this freaking CLEANSE, FIBRO BEAST. Why take my fat pants? I am about to send a strongly worded letter. I can’t just leave the house in yoga pants ALL THE TIME. Sometimes even I need to look presentable. And trying to walk around in jeans that feel like a denim Iron Maiden is not helping matters any, socially or spiritually. 

So there you have it. The past couple months in a sort of nutshell. But not cashew or peanut—those are NOT on the List for my detox. I didn’t even get to reading through Ephesians and Colossians and remembering the Gospel all over again, and how it’s true now, it’s true for my chronic pain self, and for everyone. I didn’t get to having my friends and family over, who saved me from myself time and time again. Where would we be without Bachelor in Paradise nights, or evenings spent discussing what actors from which British detective shows were in THIS OTHER THING, or hot afternoons on the cool porch talking about life, or delicious plum cobblers dropped off after we had to put the family kitty down? What I’m trying to say is that even though the past months have been hard in every way I expected, it’s been full of surprising graces? I’m looking at you, everyone in my life. I’m looking at you, and I thank you. And the Property Brothers and Tyra Banks and Gordon Ramsay. 

This is my life now. 

I found this gem of a dedication in a used bookstore Agatha Christie novel, and that's why I bought it. 

Sometimes I amaze even myself with my excellent taste. 

You know that's watermelon simple syrup for gin and tonics, right? 

There was this one time we took my niece to the sand castle competition  That's Jaws, of course. 

Dang right I took a picture of a squirrel at the track. Dang right.