The best treatment

I've been living in a whirlwind of doctor appointments, medications, advice, daily routines, work, self-education, wondering, lab tests, work, and symptoms that are as random as they are transient.

My life as it is currently takes a toll on me--part physical, part emotional. It's one thing to be sick, but to know you're sick without knowing what you're sick with creates a constant low-level frustration and anxiety. It also becomes exhausting.

Awhile back, Dr. G suggested that I cut back at work. I told her that sounded like a great idea, except there aren't many things I'm qualified to do, and certainly almost none that would bring in my current pay. Besides, I told her, doing nothing, laying low, having no real action in my day would kill me faster than any illness.

It has been interesting to note that I'm getting better at doing nothing--or my version of nothing. I've been working on my sleep. The inability to sleep continues to make me miserable. I've been trying to be more disciplined about maintaining a routine and a set bedtime. I've been sleeping better this week, a week, I should point out, when I only had to work two days.

This morning my husband was talking to me and he said, "You look better." I was a little confused.
"Better than what?"
"Better than usual. You don't look so tired. You look more relaxed. Your color's better."

Oh. No, no, no, no. I cannot accept that a lack of rest is the thing that
is making me so unwell. I am not that person who is so delicate that she must not encounter stress.

Absolutely not. I am made of tougher stuff.