Actually, I've been feeling better since Friday, but did not haste to deliver the good news, lest it just be the Prednisone talking. I still have some rib pain, can't draw a full, deep breath, and am a bit shaky and weak, but compared to last Sunday?
Oh, yes, so much better! And a good thing, too, since I must return to work tomorrow, on my normal schedule. This would not trouble me in the least if I was not taking Prednisone, which does not allow me much in the way sleep.
Know that sound that high electrical tension wires make in the summer, and you happen to walk near or beneath them and hear? That hyper-charged hum? That is how my body feels when I have to take Prednisone. This is only day four of my treatment course. I have eight days left. However, once I get to the 30 mg per day dose and head seriously towards the final tapering off, I know I will settle into a more normal semblance of being. In the meantime?
Do not cross me. Not nobody, not no how. I breathe fire and all hapless victims are crunchy and taste good with malt vinegar. (I despise ketchup.)
I finally caved in and went with hubby to occupy a space in church this morning, and it turned out to be a good thing to do. He was not as jumpy as he sometimes is, so I was able to settle in for the most part, and stay settled in my own little zone. It had been awhile. I was surprised and rather pleased to note that it seems the final separation has occurred. Listening to the choir music, I no longer felt any pain at not being in the thick of it. My own music has made such a shift, I no longer feel a need to express myself in that old realm. Not to say that the old realm was never of any value to me. It certainly was. It helped shape me, to some degree, into the musician I am in the process of becoming.
But I need to balance my spirituality in a more healthy way, so the prime focus can be one or the other (music) when necessary, but easily shift back if one side is in danger of overwhelming/obliterating the other. To recognize the moment when that is about to happen -- ah, yes! That's the tricky part.
Here is a picture of the sweater I've been laboring over since mid-January: my own design, and prototype number one for a potential sweater for Mr. Hart. I have some suggestions from him now, in regard to his requirements for The Ultimate Sweater and will soon be heading into prototype number two. I am enjoying this. I have not unfurled my designer's sails in a long time, and they are a little bit creaky still, but it feels very good to stretch in this way again.
After the craziness of the last few months, I was in far too much danger of folding in on myself, and I believe the pneumonia had to happen, because anything less subtle would have escaped my notice.
A lot of less subtle things have escaped my notice in recent months.
As my wise friend has been known to sing: "Awake, arise, or be forever fallen."
My voice is returning after this illness. It won't be long before I am flying again.
"Awake, arise," indeed!