The past month or so has been rather eventful. I finally felt like I was recovering a part of me that I had been missing. My goal of growing spiritually was evolving nicely. Feeling confident that I was on the right path, enjoying short outings to church and even a couple of life group meetings, and evaluating my personal goals and relationships by focusing on my book study, all added purpose to my days. I actually believed that I was on the path to regaining some self-worth and meaning in my life. Physically, my body was still symptomatic, even alongside my spiritual and emotional improvements. Symptoms still interfered and roared their ugly head, but at least I was traveling in a productive and appealing direction.
UNTIL... my body decided to throw a complete, indescribably, irrational, and unforgettable nightmare my way. Without going into the specific details about my health experience leading up to and including the infection that resulted in an unexpected hospitalization, fears have clearly returned.
I would think that it's only natural to rethink, overthink, and even become overprotective with the goal of preventing a repeat. However, I was not ready, and still not ready to accept, moving backwards. I was just gaining the confidence to take risks, as minimal as they may have been, to feel alive.
Currently, that progress has disappeared. Everyone has me walking around on eggshells, including myself. Fears of repeat infections or overexertion are at the forefront. Concerns over being sick during the holidays, avoiding all the colds and illnesses that are so prevalent right now, and worries of what is yet to come regarding PORT replacement in the future, are all playing in overdrive.
Now it's time for me to figure out how I will go about regaining the ground that this most recent health dilemma has stolen from me. But first, I must find the energy and patience within myself.