I am never, ever, ever

Getting better.

The slow inevitable decline of a progressive illness is hard to quantify especially when the illness in question gives you “good days” and “bad days” to begin with.

It can be difficult to notice the fact that it takes longer and longer to recover from the flu, or infusions, or too much physical activity.

The bounce back doesn’t dramatically swing from bouncy to flat. It’s more like a basketball, inevitably bouncing a little less high each time it hits the ground.

Right now I’m noticing my ball is flatter than it used to be. It’s taking me longer to recover from infusions, longer to get over colds. I run out of energy sooner on my good days.

It’s possible it’s a flare up. They can last for years after all. However it’s just as possible that I’m declining, slowly, incrementally, as my disease devours healthy nerve endings and my autonomic system loses coping mechanisms.

It’s scary and it’s depressing.

Today I’m struggling to find the silver lining.

Missing Something

I pat my pockets absently for the item I’ve forgotten, rummaging through the detritus on the desk, the overflowing “in case of” items in my bag.

I’m missing something.

I go back upstairs to see if I left it there but nothing catches the faint haunting thought in my brain. Wallet yes, keys yes, gloves yes.

What is it?

I check the bathroom as I often leave things sitting on the windowsill or sink, set aside during teeth brushing or other ablutions.

Nope.

I’m out of time. Whatever it is, I hope I really don’t need it because I’m going to have to leave without it. I open the door, step out onto the porch and freeze.

It’s you.

I’m missing you.

Your absence in my life is still enough of a novelty to send me off in a flurry of activity searching for whatever it is that will make me whole, because I simply never am.

A tear escapes my eye, chased down my cheek by an eager sibling.

Deep breaths.

I don’t have time for grief today.

———— SavvySpoonie 2026

A new approach to chronic pain.

I’m scared.

Despite being reassured that this disease doesn’t directly cause muscle weakness I’m seeing post after post about my fellow SFNers losing muscle strength.

I have days when my legs feel weak and wobbly, when my hands would rather throw things than grasp them.

I don’t want to lose my mobility.

So I’m going to get moving. Every day.

Regardless of how I feel I’m going to move. I have a vibration plate for days when all I can do is stand there, a rock stepper for days when I can do more, an infinity hoop to work out my core, a GI Board for balance, and a tiny new thigh master thingy for those days when I can’t get out of bed.

I also, of course, have my dog. He prefers the long walks around the neighborhood but those require good days.

Every day I have to do something though. No more doing nothing.

This body of mine is a complex machine that needs more maintenance than most and I’m going to maintain it.

So I apologize in advance for any Spoonie Workout posts. Just know I’m not affiliated with anybody so any recommendations are because I actually use the thing. If I ever get lucky enough to be affiliated with someone I’ll tell you up front.

We don’t have the luxury of waiting to get better.

There is no better.

This is it.

So get moving.

Managing life with chronic illness requires savvy spoons