The Life-Changing to The Petty

Trigger warning: whining

Lord, grant me the grace to accept things I must, the strength to tolerate events and people I’d rather not, and infinite mercy to hold my tongue and smile instead of releasing the snark.

My life feels small. I understand that most people don’t have lives that have unfolded as planned. Life happens. Little did I know my origami self was wrinkled in the middle, where you don’t see it at first. Chronic illness and pain have changed my life over time.

In the past five years, I’ve lost both parents, broke my ankle, plunged to the depths of depression, and had several serious falls in addition to my husband’s mom moving into our lower level. These character-building events hit like a pile-up in dense fog. I extricated myself best I could but each impact was on an aready-damaged structure.

The result has been worsening of chronic health problems, loss of mobility, limited ability to care for myself, and loss of hobbies and outings. Wow, wow, and wow. Thus, a small life. It’s been difficult but I’ve made every effort to recover and find ways to adapt.

Some problems are established as part of the picture but continue to surprise when they come back round. Pain continues to suprise me when it rears its ugly head as do vertigo, nausea, shooting pains, aching ribs and other issues I won’t mention. They’re cyclical but unpredictable. Symptom management is constant and varied. The linen cupboard has an area devoted to splints and braces – foot, ankle, knee, low back, and shoulder. Got ’em all. Heating pad, good ice packs, massagers, therapy balls, stationary recumbent bike, rollator, knee scooter, and wheelchairs. I’m on a nerve pain medication regularly, but the only backup for spikes is acetominophen. I save that for really bad times.

Last but not least, there are those daily nuisances that get under my skin like parasites. No matter how frequent, instead of becoming inured, they grind my teeth. The sound of my mother-in-law, who lives in my basement, blowing her nose every morning, even worse if she’s in the shower, really gets me. My incredibly cute, tiny rescue dog barking too long in the backyard, ignoring the high beep I sync with her ferocious noises and insistent yelling followed by pleading, drives me crazy! Knowing my husband will, most likely, forget what I tell him, requiring reminders – except the infrequent moment when he is insulted! insulted that I doubt his attention to my details – wears on me but to which I’m resigned. We’ve been married so long, 32 years, that I’ve forgotten more irritants than poking me now. If my husband’s reading this far, I don’t want to spark a response. 😄

I really just wanted to list things that are bugging the shit out of me, but didn’t want to be only petty. Good vent. Thanks for hearing me, @invisiblepain and universe.