The Science Of Whimsy

 We spend a lot of time on the porch in the sun these days.  (We spend as much time as we can on the street in the rain too, there just isn't nearly as much of it.) Today for the first time I wondered if we would ever long for these days, before the kids grew up, when we would have tea parties and paint parties, singing and imagining flying through different dimensions, picking up fellow travelers.  God, it sounds so idyllic, which is what made me wonder if we'd ever tie nostalgia to a global plague, extreme social isolation, a potentially illegal sabbatical from high school, and of course never ending pain and illness management.  We've worked so hard to get here, it's only right we should enjoy it.  I hope we don't long for it though.  I hope this is truly a starting point.

Oh right, a starting point.  I'm well past that, having been on my period since Dec. 2018.  It has finally been established I have cysts on my ovaries and fibroids on my uterus, thanks to some god awful procedures about which I was not warned.  An MRI has been ordered for more details which will I suppose, inform the course of action.  My only concern is what effect said action will have on migraine.  Other than that, I have no need of any of those organs and they can yeet.  And wouldn't I love an end to the occasional pain that makes it impossible to walk, and radiates down my leg and across my back?  It's just so minor compared with everything else.

Anyway, I'm taking Child One to pediatric rheumatology on monday to rule out autoimmune things.  All the procedures this month have screwed with my migraine med days, so I'm glad that will be technically next month.  But of course, more procedures follow.  Anyway it'll be good to rule stuff out.  We'll still be stuck with an almost useless diagnosis of ME/CFS, but typically the fewer diagnosis the better.

I guess it's up to us to maintain the habits we enjoy, like spending time on the porch together.  Even if we never get the energy to write songs or publish books together or any other dreams we've dreamed, we have always enjoyed collaborating on silly stuff.  It takes an incredible amount of intentional whimsy to battle depression, as it turns out.  I know this is disjointed as hell, but I'm putting energy into singing! So I'm still tired, always tired, never not tired.  But music definitely makes things better.