This Stage of Healing

I drag myself to this post. If not for my lofty goal of posting every day in September to support CMT Awareness Month, I would be curled under the covers. Hoping to feel better soon. I don't know why I feel this run-down, this writing-out, this exhausted, aching, darkness. Could be walking too much on the new boot, or trying to catch up on chores. Maybe I'm fighting a cold. Maybe healing is huge, draining work. Probably. I see how a diagnosis has an initial euphoria, followed by glum reality. At first, I was so relieved. No surgery. No lasting damage. I could start putting weight on it, start getting back to living. Such relief.

Then time and the rest of the story begins to write itself. Lasting pain. Slow healing. And, even though the boot can take weight, it is also heavy and makes my ankle angry-sore. I have seriously backed off of my big expectations of getting back to real life. I don't know when I will drive again. I don't know when I can help Anika in her class. Or make gnomes and fairies for Forest Fairy Crafts. I am seriously downshifting. Again. And it drives me crazy.

I will be calling to set up physical therapy tomorrow. More hope, more consequences.

I hope I sleep better.

Meanwhile, CMT Awareness month is kicking into gear around the Internet. This year, I am hearing more questions about plans and goals. Why are we putting energy into this month? I need to figure out how to link back to the interviews that I recorded two years ago (that long?!). We all wanted a simple thing, a wish to be understood.

We deserve recognition. This journey matters.

And I get tired, and busy, but I still want to help. So this is my small quest. To open the door into my story for a month of the year. Perhaps it will connect with others in the CMT community. Perhaps it will inspire more stories. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

We can draw a new story. A story where we are not alone. We are stronger together. So, even though it's easier to curl up under the covers, to be quiet, I will write my stories. Maybe, just maybe, they will make a small difference. I can hope :)

20120903-225849.jpg

My girl draws a garden with love. I write a story of hope :)

And please, I hope I will feel better tomorrow. Please.

Lenka Vodicka

I am a photographer, writer, and crafter in the Sierra foothills. I am the bestselling author of the Forest Fairy Crafts books. I am a recent breast cancer survivor and I manage hereditary neuropathy (Charcot Marie Tooth or CMT). I live with my two teens, a black cat, two kittens, a bunny, and a furry little dog named Chewbacca. I enjoy adventures, creativity, and magic.

http://lenkaland.com
Previous
Previous

I

Next
Next

Living with CMT, Day 14,670