Adventures in Moving House

Well, the deed is done. We moved and have been in our new house for exactly one week! Mercy, moving created a strange brew of fevered, paradoxical feelings. We were always somewhere between excitement and dread; anticipation and foreboding; exhaustion and exultation; and daydreaming about what we were going to do in our new house, then mixing it with the reality of our bank account.

Thankfully, once our old house sold we had about three weeks to pack and get ready to move into our new house. As you know, I struggle mightily with fatigue related to my MS. My Hubby was super busy with work so I created a plan of attack and paced myself to get everything packed and labeled for the move.

The day of our closing finally arrived and we celebrated by having dinner with Hubby’s Mom!

We closed on a Friday and had arranged for family and friends from church to help us move boxes on Saturday. We have such wonderful people in our lives! I sat in a chair and directed traffic so everyone knew where they were going. I’m pretty sure some child labor laws were broken.

Our Cornish Rex cats, Laudy and Pip, made the transition to the new house swimmingly. They hung out in our master bath and closet during the move, then came out once everyone was gone to check the place out. Our new reclining love seat provided a much needed place to take a break. There was little rest for the weary though. We worked hard Sunday afternoon to clear paths and locations for our furniture.

The movers arrived Monday morning at 8:00 a.m. to load up our furniture and appliances from the old house to take to the new. I stuck to my scooter all day in order to make it through the day.

I had done pretty well Saturday and Sunday managing my energy, but I was really struggling to keep going by Monday evening after everything was finally in our new house. Both the cats and I were turned around and upside down.

Somehow everything in life seems to happen all at once. It turned out that my first full infusion of Ocrevus just happened to fall on Thursday of last week, three days after we moved. I expected, and was correct, that I’ve been extra tired since getting the drug. I purposefully allowed myself to work past what I knew was good for me in order to get as much done as possible before the Ocrevus took me down.

Slowly, I’m recovering from my treatment and our new house is feeling more and more like home. I do a little bit each day and my hubby does a whole lot each evening. We’re hoping this is the last move we ever have to make. But even if it isn’t, what I love most about my home is who I share it with 💕.

Undone

We placed our house on the market three weeks ago and every day since has been like living in some alternate reality.  The endless cycle of picking up, putting away, wiping down, and clearing out in order to hide the fact two cats and their humans live here had grown old by the second day. I’ve seen vlogs of people on YouTube who want you to believe they happily clean their house every day and offer advice on how you could learn to love to do the same. I like a clean house and I’m no slacker when it comes to actually doing the deed, but there is no way I want to adopt some ritual that forces me to scrub the toilet every morning in order to feel joyful.

Nevertheless, with the knowledge people could be coming over at the drop of a hat to see the house, I found myself in a state of constant tidiness not too far removed from the feeling you get just a couple of hours before hosting a dinner party. You have ten things to do at once and the pressure is on to get it all done before the first ring of the doorbell. We don’t host dinner parties anymore thanks to my MS. I don’t have the energy to clean, cook, AND be charming anymore. Most days it’s a struggle just to do one of these through to its completion. So, it wasn’t too far into the first week my prayers grew in fervor for God to intervene and make some way for me to survive this part of the process.

We had two open houses and several showings the first couple of weeks which resulted in one low-ball offer that was $40K below asking price and begged to be rejected. However, we received and accepted a second offer this past Monday, but it was contingent on the young couple’s house selling first. It was such a great offer we thought it was worth giving it a chance. For better or worse, a contingency does not stop your house from being shown, though it usually slows things down to a trickle. So, we were absolutely flabbergasted by the number of people who crawled out of the woodwork the day after Zillow and Realtor.com listed our house as “Contingent”. Our hearts and hopes soared that maybe something would come of it all, but my MS was absolutely seething and out to take revenge because I was not complying with its dictatorial demands for rest.

My prayers took on a begging tone asking Him to help me survive and to get another offer that would press the contingency to a precipice and conclusion. With each passing day my appeals intensified to the point they became more like chants than well-spoken prayers.

In addition to keeping things tidy, it grew harder and harder with each passing day to pack up the cats and put them in the car, move the litter boxes to the garage, stash the scratching posts and then drive somewhere to wait until the coast was clear before reversing the process when I got home. By Tuesday of this week I had become so tired I couldn’t walk or be up for more than five minutes at a time. Matter of fact, my energy didn’t even last long enough for the water to boil in the electric kettle for a cup of tea. The situation was dire!

That’s when it happened, right at the intersection of I Can’t Do This Anymore and God, Please Help Me. We got a full price offer on Friday that ended up being the one we got to keep. The young couple who made the contingency offer on Monday was not able to buy our house until theirs sold so they, unfortunately, fell victim to the standard kick-out clause when we got the second offer.

Our realtor, in the business for years, told me that she had never had a house with a contingency offer all of a sudden get so many people wanting to see it. She was still turning down requests to view our house over the weekend well after the ink on our contract was dry Friday.

My emotions have been all over the place through this whole experience. Excitement and anxiousness mixed with a healthy dose of hope, anticipation and nervousness. But when I saw the final full-price offer I thought I was seeing something wrong. I even looked our listing up online to make sure I had remembered our listing price correctly. Sure enough, I had seen it right the first time. That’s when I started sobbing uncontrollably as a flood of relief and gratitude to God completely made me feel undone by Him. Although I had begged God to intervene on our behalf with continuous pleas, I couldn’t take in how mightily He had answered. As the reality of it all slowly dawned on me, my continuous chant turned into millions of Thank You-s and You’re so good to me-s. I couldn’t stop saying it over and over as tears of joy and thanksgiving fell unashamedly down my cheeks. The fact that, once again like so many other times in my life, He had heard my prayers and intervened on my behalf, left me feeling completely and utterly undone and humbled before Him.

I am writing this in the middle of the afternoon while reclining in bed waiting for my MS to wear out its retaliation for doing too much this week. Let my MS do what it may, I don’t care. I am glowing in the ceaseless cascades of my Father’s love for me. I’d spend every hour of every day left in my life stuck here lying in my bed if I had to just to know and to feel His tender, caring, kind, reassuring love. Thankfully, I know I won’t have to do that. It is His nature to be just that good to me!

~ See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! (1 John 3:1)

Waiting Is the Hardest Part

As the new year began, Hubby and I put our house on the market. We had been talking about it for a couple of years but never seemed to have the drive to get the house ready.

I turn 50 this year (😳) and have never lived in any other town than the one I was born and raised in. Hubby had lived in a couple of different places before we met and married. However, once he moved to my town it felt like home and we settled into 14 years of happiness here together. Suburban life is great but the everyday traffic and effort to get anywhere of consequence has gotten old. Not only do we work in the city, but we also go to church, do our banking, get groceries, go shopping, go to parks, exercise, and… pretty much everything in the city.

Over the Christmas holiday, we pushed and worked ourselves to the bone thinning the herd of things we had accumulated over the 12 years we have lived in our current house. Trying to do all of this with MS was a challenge every single step and hour along the way. There were days I couldn’t do anything at all, but most days were chopped up into various lengths within what felt like a never ending work-rest cycle.

Anytime we weren’t decluttering and purging we spent scouring real estate listings online. We went to several open houses within our target zone in the city but always kept coming back to the same house we had seen on the first day we started house hunting. It had been on the market for a few months and the owners had reduced the price to a point we felt like we could put in an offer. Since it had been on the market for a while we were sure the sellers would be interested in negotiating with us. Well, wouldn’t you know it, the very day we put our offer in, two more offers were submitted and the pressure was on to make sure ours was the one they accepted. It was an anxious 36 hour wait before we found out whose offer they settled on. I’m very happy to say we got the house! It’s everything we needed and were wanting and we hope we never have to move again.

We listed our current house and are praying it sells quickly, although one never knows about these things.  The weather has not been very cooperative so far.  I suppose January is not exactly the best time to put a house on the market–it just worked out that way for us.  We have had a lot of interest, but no offers yet.  It has proven to be a challenge to keep the house in a state of constant cleanliness and overall tidiness.  I’m so glad I can stay home and work at it as my energy ebbs and flows.  As you all know, I love our cats right up to the edge of being kinda freaky.  Whereas before I didn’t really care if they left pieces of litter here and there until I could sweep the floor every few days, now I’m virtually following them around with a dustpan and broom everywhere they go.  I clean the kitchen countertops at least five times a day trying to erase the evidence that we let them get up there in the first place.  I’ve even shaved (yes, really) the places on the couch where tell-tale signs of cat scratches made it look like we let them use it as a scratching post 😬.  Even though they increase the workload, which drains my limited energy all the faster, they’re worth it, but I don’t want to keep it up indefinitely.

I keep finding myself thinking of the old adage “a watched pot never boils” because it coincides perfectly with our current situation at the moment, a watched phone never receives a text that someone wants to look at our house. It’s become a daily exercise of faith to wait this little while without knowing the future regarding when our current home will sell. This has spurred me to think back across the span of my entire life, especially the parts that were hardest, and to see clearly how God worked for my best interest in each and every circumstance. I have absolutely no doubt that He is working to bring the right buyers to us at the right time, not a moment too soon nor a moment too late. Waiting for things to happen is indeed the hardest part while still clothed in this mortal flesh, but it only serves to heighten the ease with which one can find peace and hope for a future with Christ once we no longer need a fixed address on this earth.

Ringing Out the Old and Ringing In the New

As December slips into January, there is a distinct sense that, like a snake who sheds its skin, one can somehow shed themselves of their outgrown (sometimes quite literally 😉), unwanted self for the skin of a fresh, new hope and beginning. I suppose some people might feel this way on their birthday, but birthdays are typically associated with wishes, not resolutions.

This past year started with one of the largest, deepest dives into the underworld of MS that I have experienced thus far. There were times I felt like I didn’t have the breath to hang on until I broke the surface for a life-infusing gasp of even a few good hours strung together. I wrote about this experience back in February in my very first blog post, The Ocean. As hard as it was to get through, the benefit was intimately feeling the presence and comfort of God in profound ways hitherto unknown to me. I didn’t make a resolution for 2019 to be a year of spiritual growth, but as a direct result of how hard it was, it turned out to be exactly that. 

Resolutions denote a need for a change and a conscious effort to make the change happen. I’ve made a few New Year’s resolutions over the course of my life with varying degrees of success. They have always been about things over which I have control, like losing a few pounds, exercising more, being more circumspect about what I say, reading more and watching less TV…the usual stuff.

This year, 2020, marks my 30th anniversary of living with MS. After my initial diagnosis, and except for a couple of relapses, the first 10 years were relatively, blissfully easy.  I had absolutely no concept of what it would eventually be like to live with MS as my daily parasitic sidekick. Sometimes, even now, it still surprises me by how far down its tentacles have reached into my life.  

Most gratefully, as 2019 progressed, I recovered enough to have some good days sown in among the bad. This too was a lesson from God about gratitude and hope.

The lessons learned and the spiritual growth God has blessed me with will serve as a lifeline, like pure oxygen, to whatever the New Year throws at me. So, I resolve to take each day of 2020 as it comes, resting upon the One who created time but is not bound by it.

I hope you take the time to look back over your experiences of 2019 with a view to how God has worked in your life. If you don’t see Him there, then there’s no better time to invite Him to share not only 2020 with you but the rest of your life! Get in contact with me and I will gladly help you get started.

May God be with you in the new year, my friends!

Life On the Boil

Somehow, every time I steam vegetables on the stove I manage to get busy with other meal prep work and look away at the exact moment the water starts to foam and boil over. It leaves an icky, mucky mess on our glass stovetop that requires a lot of elbow grease to clean up.

The entire month of December can sort of feel like this, too much to do and not enough time and energy to do it all. Pageants, musicals, parties, decorating, cooking, shopping, wrapping, organizing, traveling… the list is endless and it comes on top of our usual work, church, and family duties. In an effort to create and maintain memorable traditions with our children, family, and friends, it seems we overextend ourselves. Stress begins to boil over, taking away the joy of the season and making us feel like a mess on the inside.

These days, Christmas or not, many people choose to live their lives set on a constant boil.  Every spare moment of time is filled with activity and on the go.  I don’t want to leave the impression that it’s wrong or bad to have a full calendar. I suppose I used to do that too when I still could.  It felt good to be busy with school and church activities, going to the movies or hanging out at a friend’s house, attending concerts, having dinner out, or just riding around town with my best pals.  It was fun being away from home and it felt as if I was seizing the opportunity to really get my money’s worth out of every moment of life.

I don’t want to go back and change much about that time in my life, except that I wish I would have weeded out some of the empty, self-indulgent things I did in a mindless effort to keep life bubbling away. Instead, I would have benefited from some unfilled moments so I could study, reflect, and work on my relationship with God.

Thanks to MS, I rarely live life on the boil anymore. Most of my days are somewhere between a long, slow, gentle simmer and stone cold. Amazingly, just as with food, there is as much nourishment and fullness in life whether it’s served hot off the boil, warm from a good simmer, or cold straight out of the fridge.

On most days, I am glad life has slowed down. It has allowed for me to boil life down to the essentials instead of life boiling me down. Yes, sometimes it’s true that I would like to have a bit more boil and a little less cold, but the joys of life can be savored either way.

My wish for you this holiday season is that you purposely carve out some quiet time to grow your relationship with God. You likely won’t find Him in the chaotic, hectic, hubbub of festivities, but in the quiet stillness of a holy night about 2000 years ago.

If Only… NASA, Amy, and Youth

Sometimes the difference between an intricate, highly complex machine working or blowing apart is down to a simple, small component’s integrity at one single moment in time. NASA learned this lesson the hard way in both the Challenger and Columbia disasters. In both cases, the defective components were made months and even years before either shuttle was assembled.

As the symptoms of my MS have progressed, I am reminded of how “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Ps 139:14) each of us truly are. Despite billions of dollars worth of research, centuries of learning about the anatomy and physiology of the human body, and life-long careers devoted exclusively to trying to figure out what goes wrong to make MS activate, there is still so much we don’t know. In the early 1600s, German mathematician and astronomer Johannes Kepler was correct when he described his study of planetary movements as “thinking God’s thoughts after Him”. This statement is true in every avenue of mathematics and science, especially in the study of biology.

Somewhere, somehow, some way, long before I ever had any symptoms of my Multiple Sclerosis, all the viral, environmental, hereditary, and biological elements were just right to kick this disease into action in the biological petri dish that makes me me.

My immune system got all confused and started destroying itself. Thanks to MRIs, I have seen for myself the white smears and dots scattered across my brain and spinal cord where tell-tale signs of damage can be easily seen. It remains inexplicable how it happened, but that doesn’t stand in the way of it being true. All my progressive, worsening problems with balance, walking, incontinence, dropping things, quick and excessive fatigue, tingling, and slow processing are all due to these white globs that made their initial marks nearly thirty years ago.

It’s staggering to imagine that such small blobs etched out so long ago have created the big problems I deal with every day.

Hmm, I feel a life lesson coming on. Sometimes it’s the little, but wrong, things we allow ourselves to do early in life that eventually turn out to be our undoing in the end.

If only someone would have checked the integrity of the O-ring on the right solid rocket booster before the Challenger took off, seven lives would have been saved. If only one day we could figure out what causes MS and how to stop it before other people’s neurologic integrity becomes comprised and they end up going through a progressively worsening disease process. If only we ourselves strove to live Godly lives and to teach the young how to choose right, so many lives would flourish and God would be glorified. If only.

Sister Trip on Mom’s Birthday

Sister Trip on Mom’s Birthday

This past Monday was my Mom’s birthday, it was the fourth year my sister Susan and I celebrated it without her.  It’s always a tender kind of day for both of us, one that’s full of sweet memories hemmed in by missing her.  

This year Susan flew from Texas and I flew from Missouri to spend Mom’s birthday together in Florida.  Mom always loved that we were close as sisters and she would have thought this was an excellent idea! It certainly was, ummm…, an interesting experience for me flying solo. I was drug backwards through two terminals, in and out of three elevators, and on and off the sky train to get to my connecting flight to Orlando via Dallas. 

img_20191102_101233_exported_466_1572707906458  img_20191102_104455

We stayed at my sweet mother-in-law’s vacay house near New Smyrna Beach.  We filled our days with lots of reminiscing, stories both old and new, lots of laughter, and, of course, exceptionally good food!

 

We got sand in our toes and sea breeze in our hair the first full day.  The tide was in and the waves were white-capped one and all. That afternoon we discovered the scenic, old downtown sidewalks and stairs into nearly every store were not meant for me (or anyone else with limited mobility) to peruse, so we went back to the house and lounged the afternoon away.  

 

Mom took us girls to Epcot over spring break in 1988.  How can it have been that long ago?!  Yikes, we’re getting old!! Susan has been back since then but I haven’t.  So, we decided to go on Monday, November 4th, Mom’s birthday. Mercy, we enjoyed ourselves and know Mom would have approved of all the sights, sounds, and tastes!  We lucked into being there during the International Food and Wine Festival. We ate our way around the world and let our inner gluttony rule until we had made a full circle of the park.

As good as the other days had been, I think our last full day was probably my favorite.  We found a beautiful, quiet, out of the way, public park with a pier jutting out into an ocean inlet.  We sat and soaked up the Florida sun, the sounds of the leaves rustling through the palmettos, and the peacefulness of our surroundings since no one else was there.  

As we turned around to walk back along the pier to our rental car, we noticed a common egret perched on the wooden rails. It looked straight at us and then serenely continued to preen and go about his business as if it knew we were harmless.  Susan and I quietly inched our way closer taking picture after picture until we were no more than three feet away.  Egrets are very common shore birds in Florida and someone else residing there might have hardly noticed his presence. However, we were mesmerized by him and thought he was anything but common, as his name implies.  His feathers billowed in the wind and his black legs and toes were a beautiful contrast against his white body. And his eyes, his eyes! I’m positive he not only saw us but appraised us as he stared our way. We three stood in our strange, small huddle for several minutes with him posing and us snapping picture after picture. He was the one who had called our meeting together by his mere presence so it was only polite that he should be the one to adjourn it.  With a deep bend of his knees and a long stretch of his wings he was in flight, soaring over the waters and away from us. Susan and I talked about him and what a fascinating creature he was, but we were just one side of the experience. I’m back home in Missouri now but find myself thinking of him. I wonder if he thought anything at the time of the two women held in his charms and if we left any sort of lasting impression on him that he remembers now.

Much like the memories of our Mom, his brief encounter with us will linger and live on inside us.

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Bike 150, Jammies, and OJ #2

Hello Friends!

It’s time for my next heapin’ helpin’ of Ocrevus! I’m writing this at the hospital while the Ocrevus Juice (“OJ”) is going in.

Thursday, August 29, 2019 was the big day for my first infusion. I was excited to get the OJ going…
… and today I keep thinking that I am willing allowing this whole business to happen to me at a cost of $17,000 per infusion.

My life has been a pretty low key affair since I posted last. As far as the OJ is concerned, I felt decent and it seemed I even had a bit more energy than usual for the first couple of days, despite a light, chronic headache. Naturally, the penny eventually dropped and on the third day a monstrously oppressive fatigue settled in. It felt like I was trying to balance a bowling ball on my neck instead of my head. My legs were concrete pillars and my feet were made of iron. This tyranny lasted for five days before finally releasing me to a much kinder, though still pretty strict, general tiredness. I wonder how it will play out this time. I’m hoping it demands rocky road ice cream 😉.

Todd and I did have one HUGE outing this past Saturday.  He rode in the MS Bike 150 in my honor 🥰. I was so proud of him. It was brutally hot that day but he pushed on and completed 102 miles! As I’ve mentioned before in previous blogs, I don’t drive much anymore because it makes me tired. So, it was a ginormous effort for me to drive 80 miles to the finish line to pick him up. Both of us gave it all we had in the name of fighting this crazy disease. I ended up paying for the effort for a couple of days. On the upside, I spent two days in my jammies snuggling with our cats whilst alternatively watching TV and reading.

My hero closing in on the finish line.
Sweating it out in order to cheer my Todd the last 100 feet. If you squint you can see the orange finish line behind me.
Time spent with cats is never wasted.
~ Sigmund Freud

I have no idea when I will feel lucid enough to write another post. But I do sincerely thank you for joining me as I meander through the wilderness that is MS.

May God be with you.

First Dose of Ocrevus Is in the Books!

I kept a running log yesterday of how my first experience with Ocrevus went. It was a long day for me, but it went pretty smoothly. Even so, I’m glad it’s over because the anticipation of the unknown was getting pretty heavy to carry. In hind site, I don’t think it was the best decision for me to join a Facebook Ocrevus group. There were some pretty extreme experiences shared and a fair amount of misinformation conveyed about both MS and Ocrevus. Each person’s body reacts differently to the ever growing range of MS Disease Modifying Therapies (DMTs), though. This was mine.

7:15 Checked in at Hospital Admissions
7:30 Rode up to the Infusion Center via the scenic route with a blue haired volunteer who got lost in the hospital 😂
7:50 All checked in and IV lead placed then taken to a chair. Waiting for pharmacy to bring my drugs up.
8:33 Drugs arrive. Benadryl, Solu-Medrol, and Saline into the IV first… I’m getting sleepy. Solumedrol is flowing, it feels a little cold as it hits the vein. They gave me a couple of Tylenol, too.
8:40 The nurse starts the Ocrevus Juice (O.J.😉) and says, “You’re off like a herd of turtles, Sister.”
8:51 I have a funky sweet metallic taste in my mouth😝.
9:50 They’ve now bumped up the infusion rate twice and all is well other than a mild headache.
10:15 The rate of infusion was bumped up again and all is well.
10:35 Well, I just had a mild reaction consisting of a worsening headache and dizziness. They are pausing the medicine for 30 minutes and then they are going to slow the rate of infusion down when they resume it. So… it’s going to take a bit more time than the originally planned 4.5 hours.
11:00 I feel better now that they’ve stopped the med and are just running saline.
11:24 Infusion resumed and I’m eating the lunch I packed for myself.
11:55 Bumped up the rate again and I still feel fine.
12:24 Last bump up to the same rate that gave me the headache and dizziness. Fingers crossed it’s okay now. There’s not much left in the bag.
12:40. I have the slightest of headaches but the bag is so close to empty that I’m going to ride it out.
12:52 Ocrevus half dose #1 is in the books! I have to stay for an hour to be monitored but then I’m free🕊️!!
1:50 The last drop of the saline has dripped, IV is out, and I’m heading out for a dear friend from church to drive me home
2:20ish I’m home, ready to shower, and put my jammies on. I have still have a headache so time for some Advil. The icky metallic/sweet taste won’t budge. The metallic part is the very familiar taste of the Solu-Medrol. I guess the sweet part is the Ocrevus because it started within seconds of it beginning.
3:40 I walked around the house for about 25 minutes doing little chores here and there before I felt the usual, sudden onset of fatigue settle in and bind me to the recliner. I’m going to be here a while, but I don’t think it’s related to the Ocrevus, just my typical MS. The headache remains entrenched, though, and it’s definitely from the infusion. I’m not sure which drug has caused it, Solu-Medrol or Ocrevus or even the two together. I do regularly get headaches from Solu-Medrol, but not typically until closer to the 24-hour mark and Advil or Tylenol shuts it down pretty quickly.
6:00 Ate dinner and resting. The headache is still slowly throbbing away. It’s not terrible, just there.
8:15 Added a couple of Tylenol to my handful of night meds and got ready for bed.
8:30 Tucked up in bed, getting ready to pray, and hoping the headache gets tired of hanging around and runs away with the dish and the spoon or hitches a ride with the cow jumping over the moon.

Friday, August 30th
7:20 The headache is gone!! I’m flushing red from the steroids and feeling tired but other than that I’m great😁.

I just have to survive the next couple of days while the steroids ooze out. I go for the second half dose two weeks from yesterday, September 12th. And then…I don’t have to go back for six months in order to get my first full dose!

Thanks for hanging around to read this and for the many who have reached out to me to let me know they’ve been praying for me. I know the prayers have made all the difference!

God be with you,

Amy

When Music Sounds, Gone Is the Earth I know

Without a job the days tend to blend together.  I no longer feel a tinge of sadness that another Monday has rolled around or the excitement of the work-a-day world that it’s finally Friday again.  But, for some strange reason, I definitely struggled through Monday this week.  Was it because hubby had to go back to work after a lovely four day weekend together?  I feel so much more freedom when he is home because it is the only time I really get out of the house these days.  I don’t know, but I definitely had acute symptoms of Monday-itis.  

Oh, before I forget, I should take a step back for a second.  Remember that post a couple of weeks ago about me riding my bicycle and all that bravado of determination to stick it to MS and just ride anyway?  Yep, that one. Well…that sent my MS rolling on the floor in screams of laughter and hilarity. It could hardly catch it’s breath long enough to snidely retort, “That’s a good one, Amy!” 🤣 😂

I have gotten on my bike four or five times since but I’ve come to the conclusion that a seven minute ride just isn’t worth five hours of drooling on the couch in utter debility.

So now, back to the story of Monday.  I got up early to ride my bike and, to be fair, got along better than usual.  I rode for 17 minutes and only had to rest for 45 minutes before being able to take a shower and brush my teeth.  The fatigue settled in heavily thereafter, though, and was thick and heavy for the rest of the day. I was bored and my mind was clear enough that I wanted to be doing something.  On three separate occasions, I tried to come up with something to write about. Nothing but a blank screen stared back at me. Honestly, after the first minute or two of nothingness, the screen wasn’t strictly blank, it looked a lot more like Spider Solitaire.  I decided I was wasting too many brain cells doing such a mindless activity and was determined to do something productive. I emptied the dishwasher and swapped wasting brain cells for wasting energy I did not have. I then decided to work a little on a sewing project I had begun a few weeks ago.  Who knew sewing took so much energy?? URG! 

I tried reading.  I love to read and take great delight in doing so nearly every day.  Why didn’t I feel like reading? Hey, Monday, cut me some slack! I tried watching TV but I couldn’t find anything that interested me.  I finished a puzzle I had started the day before but it only took about 15 minutes. I tried to watch the birds but apparently they all colluded with Monday and went to someone else’s feeders.

Having exhausted all the usual pursuits that keep me busy when I find myself forced to sit all day, a sudden stroke of genius popped into my mind.  Music! I will listen to some music!! 

I have a fairly eclectic taste in music.  My music library is a hodge-podge of various decades of rock, punk, swing, big band, blues, jazz, folk, bluegrass, Christian…pretty much anything that isn’t country or rap.  I’ve been listening a lot to rock, blues, and Christian the last few months but these did not fit the bill on Monday.  

If I was ever sick during the school week while growing up, my parents would drop me off at my Grandma Lois’ house and she would take care of me until they were done with work.  Grandma always had her radio tuned to KTXR 101.3, which was known back then as “The Gentle Giant”. They played a kooky mix of soft rock and various kinds of instrumental music. We never listened to KTXR at our house or in the car but I loved listening to it at Grandma’s house.  Like all kids who grew up in the 70s and early 80s, I watched my fair share of The Lawrence Welk Show. Although I wasn’t ever really interested in listening to any of the lounge act singers, I was a huge fan of the orchestra, especially when they played by themselves. Somehow these two weirdly-paired entities of my childhood faintly illuminated the beginnings of a serious passion for a genre of music I wouldn’t have much exposure to until college.  During 1989, while attending university, I discovered the local National Public Radio station in town. They played classical music several hours during the day back then and I suddenly felt like I had discovered the songs of angels. No other genre of music has ever come close to the joy and delight I have found through classical music.  

I guess like all things in life, you go through phases of binging on one thing to the exclusion of all others until something brings you back to the center of some old passion and you relive the fundamental elements that drew you to it in the beginning.  

And so around 1:15 in the afternoon all the “-itis” of my Monday disappeared.  My heart soared upward, untethered from my languid body, until I no longer knew if I was part of this world or had joined the mirthful realm of the next.  I cried listening to Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude and Etude Op. 25 – No. 1 because of their limpid, beautiful timbres. Brahms’ waltzes, especially my favorite, No 15 in A Major, Op. 39, felt like liquid love washing away all the dullness of the day. Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Massenet, Debussy, Vivaldi, Schumann, Elgar, Ravel…one after the other until I was too blissed out to care that I was under the thumb of MS that day.

Music, when applied to just the right heart at just the right time, is the strongest balm one can apply to weary souls. 

Music
When music sounds, gone is the earth I know,
And all of her lovely things even lovelier grow;
Her flowers in vision flame, her forest trees
Life burdened branches, stilled with ecstasies.

When music sounds, out of the water rise
Naiads whose beauty dims my waking eyes,
Rapt in strange dreams burns each enchanted face
With solemn echoing stirs their dwelling-place.

When music sounds, all that I was I am
Ere to this haunt of brooding dust I came;
And from Time's woods break into distant song
The swift-winged hours, as I hasten along.
~ Waltar De La Mare