On Commutes, Steriods, and Bedtime Negotiations

I've waxed so philosophical with my last few updates that I have failed to give you any practical idea of how things are progressing for me.

On Friday, I started back to work full-time. On Monday, I actually returned to the office on a half-time basis. It is good to be on-site with my colleagues again, although it's alarming to discover how much even those familiar four walls have changed in the past month. The hallways, the parking lot—everything is so extensive and discrete now. The distance that I formerly spanned in less than a minute (3 inch heels notwithstanding) now takes 6. I laughed and told my boss that my commute from the parking lot to my desk takes 15 minutes. It's only funny because it's true!

I started my fourth and final week of steroids today. I cannot begin to describe how much I loathe those chalky white pills. For three weeks now, I have not been able either to fill my stomach or to taste my food, and the combination is decidedly unpleasant. My face and my body are suspiciously swollen now, and I avert my proportionally-shrinking eyes when I walk past the mirror in my bedroom. That mirror is not where my battles are now, but I'm so accustomed to fighting on that turf that I occasionally forget. The Lord is certainly teaching me new things about beauty in these days, so I try to pay as little attention as I can to those tattling pieces of glass. The lessons that the mirror can share are not important right now, even if they are true.

I will visit the doctor again on Friday for an EMG test, which will—at least—be less painful than a spinal tap! I won't venture to say exactly what we hope to learn from this test, but it seems as though it might evidence either a muscle or nerve conduction problem. The data could pinpoint a specific conduction problem, isolate a range of problems, or reveal nothing. Results should be available early next week.

My sleep is restless and fitful, but it does come now, and I am intensely grateful for that. But I guess that a few days’ worth of poor sleep is catching up with me, because I feel utterly exhausted tonight as I write. In fact, all the emails and phone calls that I’d hoped to complete will just have to wait. Neither my plans nor the belligerent assertions of my clock are going to dissuade me from believing that 7:30 PM is an appropriate bedtime.

I will leave you with a brief word of encouragement which the Lord brought to my mind tonight. As I was praying a few hours ago, I was reminded of the Lord’s kindness in the timing of my illness—kindness toward me and toward my beloved community. Though I noticed my “shin splints” less than a week after my best friend’s wedding, there was not one hint of physical pain to slow me down from my maid of honor duties or to mar anyone’s enjoyment of that precious event. This realization actually hadn’t occurred to me until now, and so I’m resting upon a fresh gratitude as I lay me down to sleep.