My bed.

When you spend a lot of time lying around, you get to do a lot of thinking. Today, as I was lying here in my bed, I started thinking about just that--my bed. 

(What, Leigh? You're writing a post about your bed?) Yes. Yes I am. 

When I had my port, I never once did my IV in my bedroom. I always did in downstairs, away from my room. Why? Because my room was my safe place. I didn't want to cross the ugliness of pumping medicine into my body, or having a needle in my chest, with the comfort and security of my bedroom. Now, I don't have a port. But my bed is still my safe place. If I wake up hurting, I stay in my bed. If I get up and realize I can't do it that day, I go back to my bed. If I can't handle the emotions of being sick, I always find my way back to my bed.

Recently, my symptoms have been taking over every afternoon. Around the same time each day, I get the overwhelming feeling that I need to lay down. And when I say overwhelming feeling it's not like "oh man, I'm so tired, I really wish I was in my bed right now." No. It's "if I don't get somewhere where I can lay down NOW, I am going to fall down." My body gives me two options--lay down or your own, or I will force it upon you. 

When that happens, I have no choice but to retreat to my bed. I feel like a cellphone, with 2% battery, that's just hoping with everything it has that it can get back to its charger. That's me. Every afternoon. My bed is the charger. 

And as much as it sucks--as much as I wish I didn't have to constantly go back to my bed--my bed is a constant in my life. And when your body is fighting you. When doctors are fighting you. When the world is fighting you and your truth, it's nice to have that constant. It's nice to have something that is going to be there no matter how I feel, how I look, if I'm crying or if I'm happy, if I'm texting friends or if I'm lonely, if I'm in a good spot or if I'm in a rut, no matter what. 

I'm trying really hard to put a positive spin on things these days, because honestly, right now, Lyme really sucks. So today, and every day, I'm thankful for my bed. If there's something/someone in your life that is your constant, tell it thank you.

As silly as it sounds. 

There's nothing silly about doing what you need to do to give yourself a little bit of that comfort in a life that hurts. If you have Lyme, or even if you don't, having a constant is vital. 

If you don't have one, find one. If you have one, be thankful.