"You Make Brave Look Easy"

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My Cousin posted this to my personal Facebook page the other day.  It so touched me!  But not in the fashion in which in should have.  Don’t get me wrong, I was very moved that she thinks I’m even the least bit brave, let alone make it look easy.  I seen it and thought to myself … I’m not brave at all.  What is she thinking?  If only she could see how big of a coward I am through this whole thing we call life.  2016 … all of it, every single waking hour of it has been a true test of my intestinal fortitude as a Mother, a patient, a woman, a person … me. 
So close to the end of this year and I have never wanted to celebrate the closing of a year in my life.  Good riddance 2016!  You have been an anchor around my neck every waking second.  This has been, by far, the hardest year of single life since divorcing the boys Dad 16 years ago and parting ways from the Jack 10 years ago. I have lost my health, independence, Eldest child has left the nest and Youngest all respect for me, if there really was ever any there at all.  Just a disgusting year and no matter how hard I try to regain a foot hold on it, it yanks that damn rug out from underneath me. Every. Single. Time. I’m not quite sure, but I fear I resemble that quote about a fool.  The one about a fool being someone repeating the same thing over and over again each time expecting a different result.  Each time I get back up expecting to be able to stand and take off walking and each time that damn rug just keeps swooshing out from underneath me and flat on my face I fall. 
Recently I was prescribed Lyrica for the Fibro pain that plagues me. Endured … wait, is that the verb I need here.  No … doesn’t quite measure up to the level of suck I went through.  I prevailed through a weekend battling Fibro not medicated enough. Fought through 3 long nights of a full on body attack.  Not one inch of me didn’t hurt.  Monday arrived and I thought I could see the end of the battle as 8 o’clock rolled around and the doctor’s office opened. The Doc had a family emergency so I was instructed to go to the ER for relief for that day and they would address the issue start of business the following day.  Joke of an ER visit. Catch the highlights of the visit in the previous post called ‘Must Find the Humor in this Situation’. Once they upped the dosage of the Lyrica and the sweet spot was found, I no longer felt the wide spread pain for the first time in years.  It was a euphoric feeling!  Only to find out a few weeks later, after my cheeks and neck began to swell, that I was allergic to euphoria.  I cried myself to sleep that night as the pain slowly crept back over my body.  Cruel play life … cruel play.
As I sit here and type all this out, I think to myself, maybe I could be brave.  In a some small way.  Because no matter what punches life deals, I take the hit and keep on going.  Is that a fool or one tough chick?  It’s all in perspective, I suppose and how one wants to look at it.  At this point, I’m too down in the muck to see it any other way than damn this sh*t sucks. 
But, I can say I am fighting.  This much I know.  I woke up today.  Put my feet on the floor and made a damn good pot of coffee.  I’m moving at a snails pace, but moving.  I don’t pack a mighty punch physically but watch out, the wit is strong with this one, on a good day.  Just remind me of it later, because I won’t remember. 

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