Today I Went to School; I learned how to be wrong (and about balance)

A critical piece of learning to handle chronic illness seems to be finding balances. Today I learned that I am able to do more than I thought. Isn't it wonderful to be wrong?

This morning, I woke up with lead running through my veins. My sympathetic nervous system took over and I started going over all the things I've already done this week in my head - yesterday I had three full outings, all before lunch - and wondering if I was crazy for planning a meeting today. But I really wanted to go, so I swallowed, tried really hard to not be too impatient with my son and nephew, and made it to school. I was meeting with the teacher who has taken over my class. But first, I had to stop and buy my coffee from my students.

Between the stress of getting there, the walking, the meeting itself, and being upright for a full four and a half hours (apparently my heart finds it too difficult to beat properly if I sit up for too long), I was sure I was going to either drive myself crazy or collapse. But no. Once again this body surprised me.

Not only did I get home, but having rested for an hour, I find now that I am restless and have enough energy to put these words out there. Amazing.

Here's my theory: the absolute pleasure (endorphins and serotonin and whatever else happens physiologically) of being at the school, where I was greeted with hugs and smiles and kindness, the satisfaction of being able to support the new teacher and contribute to something which is so important to me, and seeing that something thriving - all of these things must have somehow balanced out the energy output.

So here I am, very happy to be so very wrong, and even happier to know that there is one less limit I need to place on myself.