I only cried four times yesterday. After such an emotional trip to the UW, I consider that a success! I think crying is a pretty natural thing when you're mourning the loss of your expected life. I'm not sure if that makes sense. I guess I'm trying to say that I had certain expectations about my life. I thought my life would be on my terms, that if I respected and cherished my body it would do the same, but there are so many variables. Now I'm adjusting my expectations.
All I know is that I have three months before my next hospital visit, the next needle pokes, and my next MRI. During that time I've decided to take a photo every day doing something different, something I either haven't done, or haven't noticed, in a long time. I'm going to purposely go out and find something to make me smile, or laugh, or enjoy. I have three months, I choose to make the best of it.
Yesterday (day 1), I went for a walk along the loop trail with Danny and Emma (the dog). At one point I let Emma off her leash and she went bounding toward the water, not realizing that there was a ledge. She put on her brakes, but couldn't stop herself in time. She landed haphazardly into the water and Danny and I laughed for a good ten minutes! The photo of Emma was taken just after she landed in the river. I think this one-a-day experiment is going to be better than taking medicine!
