Salting your waffles …

It’s been just over three months since I got sick and the peace of mind I have over the whole experience couldn’t be more rooted in hope … and in humor.

We can spend a lot of time trying to figure out all the WHYS to our unpleasant situations. And even longer being resentful of them. I try to learn from every experience I have. Good or bad, I see them all as lessons. But I’ll be honest, sometimes I just don’t get the point in the lesson in the first place. It can be frustrating to say the least. But it’s at that point when I usually tell myself that WHATEVER the lesson was, it all had a part in shaping me into the woman I’m meant to be. Which in the bigger picture, is kinda cool.

Once I get to this point I can begin to truly appreciate the experience. I can even begin to laugh about it. Which is always good. I know that when I can find humor in an otherwise unpleasant memory, I have achieved my ultimate peace in it. I begin to feel like a warrior and survivor … and not an out-of-control victim.

When I first came home from the hospital my family made me breakfast and Libs brought it to me so I could eat in my bed. She sat with me. I remember being surprised by this. She didn’t just bring it to me and leave, she settled herself on my bed and began talking to me. At the time this seemed so benign. But it became one of the happiest and funniest memories that came out of the whole meningitis (Part 2) experience. I really can’t remember anything Libs and I began talking about, I was still pretty out of it. But I do remember Libs calling my name over and over again. She was saying something and I just was too detached to catch the importance of it. I’m not sure what finally kicked my brain back into reality but I finally heard what she was saying. “Mom, you’re salting your waffles!” Well, we got a pretty good chuckle out of that one! And it’s continued to be a staple comment in our family when someone does something loopy.

It’s been a long three months. They have NOT been easy. I am still not myself physically. The fatigue is down right depressing at times. But I know that I am doing everything I can to get stronger. And thankfully, it’s working. Slowly but surely, it IS working. And I couldn’t be more grateful. But I still don’t have an understanding of the WHY I got sick again. I have thought about the day I got sick over and over again. The speed work I did on the treadmill just hours before I couldn’t move without excruciating pain. How strong I felt. Then how weak. I just can’t make any sense of it. But that’s OK. With memories of salty waffles, I’ll just laugh about it until I do.

Well, I hope you all have a day where laughter is the best medicine!!!

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