If I could only make a deal...

   Today wasn't so bad, but that doesn't mean it was good. I keep getting those damn waves of That Feeling. They're unfortunately similar to what I experience just before having a seizure, so they stop me in my tracks. Am currently trying to adjust my emotional reactions to them; just sit and let the wave ride over me and away instead of immediately getting anxious/scared/angry/frustrated/etc. I have to accept that this is a part of me now, and may be for a number of years yet. So...if I suddenly need to lay down and take a nap, instread of getting mad that I HAVE to do this, I just do it. It hasn't been easy, but am getting some results.   I saw part of a documentary the other day on a 12 yr-old boy with something called Proteus Syndrome, a condition where the bones grow abnormally and fuse. I saw him stumbling around trying his best to play soccer. During halftime, he had to rest, and cried because he was frustrated. His mom offered him painkillers, but he refused. When the game resumed, he got up and joined in.    I have to remember this kid. Here I am, almost 50, and going through admittedly a difficult time, but in 2-12 years, it'll be over. This child has a lifetime of frustration, pain, hospitals, therapy, operations, and medication. And if he can work around it and get back in the game, then so can I.    I just hope I remember it when I go through my next Bad Episode.   One of the annoying things is how all-encompassing the Bad Days are. Because I am attacked physically, mentally, and emotionally all at once, and over a period of days, I become totally ensnared by the symptoms, and am unable to do or think about anything else. It's like being seasick; you're not going to be thinking that the laundry needs to be done or if you're low on onions and celery. Everything that needs to be done is, at best, a major hassle or, at worst, an unsurmountable, tortuous crisis. So I fold in on myself. Even my 9 yr-old becomes a noisy pest who seems to be constantly making impossible and/or pointless demands, as well as a hell of a lot more noise than is necessary.   But I'm going to get through this. Hell, I HAVE to. The HRT helps a lot, but there are still the Bad Days. And while I don't have a female support group or a crone family member who can help, there's my wonderful, long-suffering friend and husband. And the little one understands as much as one can.  May she inherit my mother-in-law's hormones and be spared this. Ditto any and all my female descendents.  If I could only make a deal with someone: one Bad Day with 2 days to recover every two weeks, taking up the same days of the week so I could schedule my life around it. Or one Bad Day a week, with the other 6 feeling okay to wonderful.  Whoever reads this, thanks for listening. Good luck to you on this journey to Crone-hood. And when this is FINALLY over, I'm throwing a damn party! (Maybe I'll even have some local friends by then, eh?)