Last week, I poured a shot of Bailey’s into and through the swirl of steam wafting above my expensive, “restaurant gourmet” cup of Earl Grey Tea. My favourite. The first drop of alcohol I’ve had in one and a half, maybe, two years.
That weekend, I took a birthday shot with a friend. The next day, a drink with her birthday dinner.
Three drinks. One week. All delicious. All moments of decadence; a sip, a taste of normalcy each time. And it felt good. It just did. I lived a little. I opened up a little space, a peep hole through all the angst I feel over the fight raging in all the places I can’t see – My body: All that blood, the disease, the chemical warriors who could turn on you at any second, who help you, then almost kill you, then bring you back again.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to drink all the time now, nor do I condone alcohol as a “picker-upper.” At the moment, I have a window of time where I feel having a drink – one drink – is safer than it has been in this last ’bout of prescription medication warfare. I’ve been off the Big M for a month and a half because of this white blood cell nonsense and it’s been over a year since my hospitalization… and God, more than that, I wanted to be someone who doesn’t have to think twice about having a drink, she just has one, because she’s 29 freaking years old and she’s with her friends and for God’s sake, it’s only one.
There’s too much to be afraid of. So, I opened up some space… and filled it with a Bellini.
I realize I never told you about my experience at the “Lupus Day Clinic” back in June. Probably, because it was actually a difficult experience for me to be immersed in Lupus for three days, up to my neck with info sheets and tips so you don’t look like “that,” or feel like “that,” or (don’t panic, now) get “that,” too. It made me feel “temporary.” That feeling good is always temporary. And that’s okay, I knew that, but three days of reminders is a little excessive. There were good things about it, too, of course. I will tell you, but not right now.
Right now, I will share something with you that my ‘cross border, sister keeper and fellow auto-immune warrior shared with me recently. She sent me this video link that speaks about one woman’s experience with a microbiotic diet, but I wanted to share it more because her story is a reminder that going through illness can gift us clarity and renewed purpose if we open a space wide enough to receive it.