Ordinary Day
A friend posted on Facebook. It started like this... “You know you have chronic illness when...!” The replies afterwards were amusing but very true. I do pack a bag for my medication. I count it a good day when I get out of pajamas and put on normal clothes. I am known by name at the ER. And the list goes on. And then I got to thinking...I no longer have ordinary days. This statement isn’t to get sympathy. It isn’t to inform. It just is. Let me explain. A normal day for me is waking up and seeing how I feel. Am I nauseous. Am I dizzy. These days, I feel pretty good. It’s also taking nine different medications to start my day. It’s making sure I’m wearing the right kind of shoes...yesterday I wore flip flops and fought excruciating foot cramps until after midnight. It’ll teach me to walk around the San Antonio Riverwalk in the wrong shoes. Yes, I used to do it all the time but no more. It’s making sure I always have a jacket with me because I’m always cold. A normal day is