Leaving A Legacy

   I have been doing nothing but going for the past three days. I am really feeling it today, though. I taught the kids, did I mention how much I love teaching them? We learned about Mark 2 in the Bible, Simple, Compound, and Complex Sentences, reviewed multiplication and division, we learned how Columbus sailed and discovered new territories, and we learned the Spanish Alphabet. It was definitely a full day. We did not end our school day until 5:30 so it became left-over night. I graded papers and entered them into my Engrade account, and then took a much needed nap. Last night was one of the roughest nights I can remember ever having.
   I was sleeping soundly when I began choking. That is a terrifying ordeal to wake up to. I realized I was choking on my own vomit (sorry for the graphic detail). I threw up so many times last night. I wasn't sure if I would be able to go back to sleep or not. Kevin got me something to drink and I took a nausea pill, which helped. I finally was able to go back to sleep around 3:30 with no other episodes, thank God. I woke up at 8:30 feeling like I had been hit by a massive tornado. But, I pushed through the pain, enjoyed three cups of coffee, took a nice warm shower, fixed my hair, and put my make-up on. I was determined to not let this day go to waste. I was determined to undermine my disease one more day. And...I did it. 
   I cycle many times during a typical day. Cycling has always been extremely difficult for me to handle. I can feel pretty good, and then completely hit rock bottom for a few hours, and then I will feel better again. Not only does this mess with me physically, but it takes an emotional toll, as well. Something else I haven't mastered, however, is not pushing myself too hard on the good days. Feeling good makes me think that I'm completely cured, until I push too hard and get kicked in the butt for it.
  What I do know is that I'm grateful for the good days, and am trying not to let the bad days define my existence. It's a constant struggle for balance, and I don't always know when things are going to fall apart, but I am beginning to see the gradation of how I feel. I know I have to be okay with a certain amount I can't control. When I do feel bad, I have to accept it, rather than try to work against it. Nothing is written in stone, and I certainly can't make a deal with my illnesses. I can, however, do my part to make sure I am feeling good, at least most of the time and know when to stop when I'm not.
   I am reminded in some sort of genetic twist of fate, that my body is attacking itself (yeah, I can kick my own ass). It is viewing everything that it should hold near and dear, as something that should be gotten rid of, eliminated. It is doing everything it knows how to get rid of what is really supposed to be there.
   You know, when I think of Vasculitis this way, it exhausts me. It gets me down. It makes me feel less hopeful, and more scared. Sometimes reality is a hard pill to swallow, especially when it smacks you dead in the face. Anyway, there is no cure...no magic pill. And I realize how little I actually know about this disease, but how much it thinks it knows about me.
   I can not only hope that the doctors learn more about Vasculitis, enough to really provide their patients with help and hope, but I also hope that there will come a time when I really understand my illnesses, how they really impact my life, and how I can live best despite them.
   I no longer measure time as far ahead as I once did. Days of little pain count for more than the single days used to count for. Maybe it's not so much that we don't have time, as it is that we don't have the pleasure of being oblivious to the ticking of the clock. I know I am not ageless. My illness proves that to me everyday. I knew that less yesterday, and I will realize it more tomorrow. I will be reminded that some systems will work better than others. And eventually, some will fail, maybe all will fail. I guess that's what "terminal" means.
   It is not so much a question of "if" but rather of "when". I'm not okay, per say, with this course of events. But I have no choice. That's the way life is. And if time stops, there is no life at all. Right now, I'm just trying to figure out how to live life with the illnesses I have the best I can. But, we all have a legacy to share. And maybe, for me, this blog is a small part of that.