Resting

After waking unwell, I start wondering again why I am entertaining thoughts about returning to work.  Last night CG, forgetting about my eyesight, asked me to test a telescope lens for him. He suddenly pointed it at the kitchen light, which sent a needle of pain through my head. I fell asleep with a headache and woke with a migraine.

I feel better now, but concerned.  I dreamed last night that I was in a chemotherapy office, receiving Cytoxan, which is the strongest chemo protocol for my condition. I am not willing to trade my completely pain-free, illness-free existence right now for regression back. My body and mind have endured enough.

Could I be happy without my job? I realize I will have to give something up in order to raise Thistle and keep my health okay.  All that work (80 percent of which was grading for hours and hours each week) got to be too much.  I am a writer first. Even if I never publish a thing again, I am still a writer.

So, decisions. I know that, whatever comes, I will make use of what I decide and live with my choices.

I also am glad I planted the little rose to commemorate a baby I lost. It helps to go out and just look at it. I took the silver angel charm out because I did not want it to get ruined by watering, and did not want metal to leach in, as roses are very sensitive to such things. I put a tiny piece of rose quartz in, instead.

All that helps, a lot.