The Sadness of the Soul

Dear Readers,
I always take sickness as a personal affront. Yes, it is an extremely intimate experience; at the moment my white blood cells are fighting off the virus that is making me feel like crap. I've always seen sickness as a good time for me to get some (usually) much-needed rest; its a good thing that forces me to slow down and take time for myself.

Maybe that's the irony of this situation: I've done nothing but rest all month. The fact is that my ms has just absolutely wrecked my body this past month. I went home in early July because my back had a nerve right under my right shoulder blade which was giving me a dull aching pain. I couldn't balance, which resulted in me barely being able to walk. This was helped along by the fact that my legs felt like lead. I lost all coordination in my right hand. I could barely walk, barely sit up, couldn't write. I lost all function, all way in which I could live a normal life.

So maybe right now I'm just a little angry about having to sit here sick. I've been sick long enough. I just want to live.