Yesterday was AMAZING.
A coworker watched me staggering down the hall toward the bathroom and said, sort of sadly: Bad day, huh?
And I was all: No! I'm having a great day! What are you talking about?
And she said: I mean your legs. (I was QUITE gimpilicious yesterday.)
And I realized something. I've been wanting and wanting the value of my days not to be dependent on whether or not I am gimpy, and I'm THERE!!!! I've been there for weeks without realizing it.
Before, a big part of why my day would be ruined by gimpiness was that I'd be overwhelmed with rage at the doctor for not diagnosing me, or helplessness at not knowing what name to give this Thing. And it's gone, gone, GONE!
When my legs go, I am no longer surprised and disappointed that the period of remission wasn’t permanent. I am no longer furious for lack of answers. I no longer cancel social engagements or classes. I’m just: huh. Guess I’ll grab my cane.
The other thing? I stumbled and stuttered my way past several meetings yesterday, and no one gave me a sympathetic look. No one asked me what was going on. No one even looked like they were trying not to look.
I have achieved banality!