Thursday, August 14, 2008

Time Marches On

How very strange that, for all practical purposes, my life went on hiatus on May 20 and hasn't yet returned.

May 20 was the morning I woke up with excruciating pancreatic pain, and every day since has involved hospitals, doctors, surgeries, pain, pain medications, nausea, digestive problems, and/or depression. My surgeon says this is one of the worst cases of pancreatitis he's ever seen (especially in someone my age--47!), but I haven't lost hope completely, yet; I think he still has a few tricks up his sleeve.

In the meantime, all the things I love and that bring me joy have been taken away: working on arts and crafts, food, going out with friends and family, laughter.

I try not to complain too much--I was never very tolerant of people complaining about their health. You can bet that has changed. I was a "fixer"--don't feel well? Take an aspirin. Tired? Take a walk. Coming down with something? Take vitamins. I know now that some things can't just be "fixed" because you want them to be--otherwise, you can bet I would have been cured of all this mess months ago.

I've always believed that things happen for a reason, but I'm having a hard time seeing the reasoning here. Maybe it's too early to understand why, out of the blue, my body would attack me and hold me hostage. In the meantime, I spend my days swimming in dark grottoes in my own little world, looking for some clarity--or at the very least, some peace.