It hasn't died.

 

I love collecting pictures of women joyfully cleaning and maintaining their home. But with all pictures, I can get very nostalgic.

Many moons ago, I was this industrious woman tending to her home, and I loved it.

With the beginnings of my chronic disease issues, I was often hospitalised and gradually what was achieveable with minimum effort is now impossible.

Many days now I spend most of the day in bed thanks to fibromyalgia, and even the days I am not bedridden, I can't move much thanks to torn ligaments in both knees.

At 73, I am able to get 2 hours help a week with the Aged Care Package. I look forward so much to those days. It is fun to plan what I need her to do. It soothes my soul to have a well run and clean home.

Some days, however I do get sad that I need another woman to clean for me, but as the young ones say, it is what it is!  There is no good in feeling false guilt because this only leads to the Pit of Despair.

On those days, I give thanks that there is a way to keep my home as I like it- just not with my hands. The happiness at living in a clean house still soothes the soul of this ageing Sacrificial Home Keeper who still loves her home...

and realises that spoons and muscles and knees may have died, but her love for her home, hasn't.

What chronic illness looks like.

I found this very true and interesting blog by Makenzie Taylor...

The thing people don’t understand about chronic illness is that it doesn’t just steal the big things… it steals the ordinary.

The walk from the car to the store.

Brushing your hair.

Getting dressed.

Standing long enough to cook a meal.

Carrying groceries inside.

Folding a basket of laundry.

Even getting out of bed.

These aren’t small tasks when your body is fighting itself.

Every step costs energy…

Every task comes with questioning yourself..

If I start this, will I be able to finish it?

Will I make it back to my car without feeling like I’m going to collapse?

Can I cook dinner without my body giving out?

These are the thoughts that quietly run through your mind every single day.

You learn to celebrate things most people never have to think about because sometimes simply making it through the day is the victory.

That’s what chronic illness looks like.

So true

 

Chronic illness is like being trapped inside a house that’s falling apart while everyone else only sees the front porch.

They see the lights on and assume everything inside must be fine.

They don’t hear the pipes rattling in the walls.

They don’t notice the cracks spreading across the foundation.

They don’t know which stairs you’re avoiding because they might not hold your weight today.

You become an expert in damage control.

You learn which rooms you can use and which ones are off limits.

You learn that fixing one leak might mean ignoring another.

You learn how to smile in the doorway while hiding the collapse happening behind it.

Some days you patch the holes well enough that nobody notices…

Because they can’t see the beams splintering beneath your feet.

Living with chronic illness is maintenance without an end date.

Repairs without recovery.

Survival work that starts the moment you wake up and follows you long after everyone else has gone to sleep.

You don’t get to step outside of it.

You don’t get to move away from it.

You don’t get to hand the keys to someone else and ask them to take over for a while.

You simply learn how to live among the ruins and call it home by Makenzie Taylor 

Something I hope and pray for.

 

Another issue to afflict me. An exacerbation of my lymphedema  I have been in hospital to treat my cellulitis in the legs. I was on IV antibiotics but after 24 hours they sent me home.

I am now on oral antibiotics which are very rugged on my stomach. But I need to persevere.

As Chris is unwell, I told him to stay at home. There wasn't really a lot he could do for me and thanks to mobile phones, I was able to keep in touch with him.

My doctor has told me to try to keep my legs elevated to try to encourage the swelling to recede, but she has also said that lymphedema usually is a life long problem.

My aged care personal assistant/cleaner can't come to the house if I am not there so I came home to a mess. Chris is not well enough to do much and can hardly stand up since his stroke.

At least I know that I do not have any blood clots in my legs. They did an ultrasound because my legs were hot and swollen and very sensitive to touch. They did hurt with the swelling, lymphedema and of course severe fibromyalgia.

I am planning on having an early night as they have told me to rest. Which is all very well until you see my messy house.

Tomorrow I am planning to shower and get some water on my affected limbs seeing as the doctor said I could do that. To make that happen, I will be praying for strength in the morning. A shower is very taxing these days.

I will bid you goodnight then take my final antibiotics for the night and head to bed. 

Tomorrow is another day and with God's help my legs will be a bit better. I just want some improvement- and it is something I hope and pray for.