Dear Body

I am begging you now, please try and cooperate. You are behaving like a petulant child, defiantly flopping off in every direction and defying any effort I seem to make to follow the specialists's advice and get out into the world and do things "while you still can". I am beginning to hate that sentiment - the notion that there is yet another list of things I have to do in order to say that I am following the process like I should. I keep telling myself there must be some purpose to this - some lesson in patience, humility or acceptance that I need to learn. My mind keeps making plans - some simple or grand schemes - and my body will have none of it. I guess as rules go, I punished it and it is punishing me right back. But the fact it is shifting my focus elsewhere must be necessary - because feeling the pain is one way not to let my mind wander to the myriad of places it can't stay away from and the questions that no one can answer with any certainty. Instead of jumping ahead to one million different scenarios around how the future will unfold - it grounds me here, in this place, gingerly contemplating the best way to get up from a chair with the least physical discomfort. Forces me to see things that I could not see and appreciate how far people have been willing to extend themselves to help me - and to will me good things even if those good things do not come. It is enough to make me want to rip up the pity party favours that I have so amply handed myself, stop making plans I can't pursue and just lean into this life I have which for now has to be enough - and is in so many ways, more than I ever expected.