An Unflinching Update

It has been a bit over a year since I've taken the time to sit down and write about my health, my body, my life.
There's good reason for that.
My health continues to deteriorate each month, until now, on the eve of my 59th birthday, I can honestly say that I've never been this fat or this disabled by a variety of immunological diseases.
The side effects of the medications and treatments necessary to keep me upright and living are the constant bloating and weight gain and inability to move more than a few paces without a cane or someone to lean on, as well as being so winded you'd think I would have run a marathon, instead of just walking to the bathroom.
I know that there are many women who are struggling with much worse diagnosis.
Cancer, ALS, Multiple Sclerosis, Dementia, Parkinson's disease and many more.
When I think about their fights for survival, or even just one more day of being who they are, recognizing their children, their spouse, their home, I feel like a coward for bellyaching about Crohn's disease and Sjogren's Syndrome, plus asthma and a constantly increasing list of allergies.
Add to that a family member's increasingly out of control alcoholism and diabetes and you have a recipe for spiraling depression.
But I continue on, taking it one day at a time, one hour, one minute, doing the best that I can not to cry and gnash my teeth over every setback.
My joint pain and stiffness keeps me from exercising, and I've not seen the inside of a gym since 2015. I miss being able to move and to strengthen my body, but we can't afford a personal trainer, and the one that I had who was affordable now operates an animal rescue when she's not working as a funeral director.
I miss having the energy to clean the house, and the ability to bend over and scrub or get up from being on my hands and knees.
I miss being able to work and write for publication, and having the skills and the energy to do interviews and get out there and talk to people and make money of my own.
I miss having friends over, going out to have a cup of tea with friends, or having them come in for tea, or going to a movie and chatting afterwards. My life has become so small and lonely. I rarely make it outside of my bedroom more than once every two weeks, sometimes once a month. I am an extrovert by nature, so it drives me crazy that I can't go anywhere without a ton of pleading and planning these days.
I miss being treated with loving care and compassion by my family. They treat me like a burden and a convenient verbal punching bag (not everyone, of course. I thank God daily for my wonderful son).
I miss being able to contribute to the community, even if it was only as a helper at the library or giving some food to the local food pantry or gifts for the giving tree at Christmas.
But I am not dead yet.
So I think of every day as an opportunity to at least try to be a little better. Try to get out of the house. Try to find a group of people online who can commiserate with me about autoimmune disease and the side effects of medications used to treat it.
There are days when I succeed and days when I fail miserably. But I fight on. As long as I'm on the right side of the dirt, I can do no less.