I am both angry and thankful.  It doesn’t seem like those two emotions can co-exist in one person for very long, but it’s true.  I have these intense periods of wanting to cry for the little things like wiggling my toes and then have intense periods of being angry at the universe.

My most recent doctor’s visit yielded nothing other than more “hurry up and wait.”  She thanked me for being patient and not giving up.  She said I was taking it all very well.  Maybe I was.

Then I cried on the way home.

I stared out the window of the car I couldn’t get into by myself that has a door angled just wrong for my wheelchair and cried.  I asked my husband what we were going to do.  What would we do if I didn’t get better?  Worse, what do we do if I get better, but with no explanation?  Will I have to spend the rest of my life worried that tomorrow I won’t be able to walk?

Two years down the road, I’ll be training for the Tough Mudder and wake up to joints that won’t bend.  Or fear I won’t be able to walk every time I get a cold.  Or never have another re-occurrence, yet still live in fear each day that tomorrow is the day it’s coming back.

I am taking it well.  I am not angry at the doctors who can’t find the answer.  I am not angry because we knew there was little chance I was going to roll into that office and have her shout, “Hey! This is what is wrong!  Your are cured!”  Though, we all know that is what everyone hopes for in those situations. I’m not angry that the tests are all coming back normal, I’ve given more blood that my body can function without, and am still waiting on more to come.

I am thankful that I can see how much of my life I was sitting around and wasting on frivolous things that I didn’t even care about.  I am thankful to live in an area with world renowned hospitals and doctors.  I had never had cause to think of how spoiled the Seattle area is in that respect.  But when the hospital down the street is one of the best in the country, with some of the best specialists in the world, you gotta compete with that.

But I am tired, I am frustrated and it’s been a week.  I know I am improving.  I am thankful for the little victories.  I am glad that my doctor wants me to start exercises in bed, but I just want to know what is wrong.  And I assume that is a pretty standard way of feeling.

So, at any given moment, at any given time, I am both thankful and angry. I am both scared and frustrated, but also feeling blessed and content with all that I have.  And while those don’t feel like things that should all be able to happen at once in one persons mind, I find that they live in a precarious harmony.

I am thankful for all that I have, because I know all that I have taken for granted.

I am angry at the world, because I know all that I have lost and have to lose still.

I am content with things as they are, because we see a small improvement everyday.

I am scared because we still are no closer to an answer.  Because I might have to live a life in fear of this happening again indefinitely.

And I am blessed.

I am blessed, because I have the hope to walk again when so many don’t.

 

****** If you’d like to follow my journey from diagnosis to treatment, I regularly update how things are going via Facebook and Instagram