Melding Bits and Pieces to Make a Whole

Oooh, agony

I enjoyed visiting Randy and his family. His youngest son, Shane, who's six, wasn't very happy with us. He thinks we should be out looking for a place so that we can live out there by him. All three boys insist we need to live close to them and can't understand why we aren't. But, what does that have to do with my writing? The answer is if I could start selling my writing for more than $5.00 to $25.00, we could afford to buy a place closer to our closest child and grandchildren.

However, my writing, directly, nor not being closer to my grandsons is not what causes my agony today. I can't breath again, and I feel so weak and sick I haven't been able to review anything; nothing makes sense when I read it. My throat hurts when I cough, swallow, or talk. On top of that the medication I take for my arthritis, a self-induced shot twice a week, is dangerous to take if I have any kind of infection. I called the doctor, and his nurse called back rather quickly to tell me to come in. I'll be leaving in a bit, but I have to admit I'm concerned. I'm not able to do many things I enjoy, and I hope my worsening condidtion doesn't take away my main activity of writing and reviewing here. I can manage to live without traveling or going in public as long as I have my family and writing.

I'm scared, something I find difficult to admit. I've always been the one who held everything together in emergencies, who took care of family members who were ill or hurt. Being afraid was a luxury I couldn't afford to display, much less take the time to indulge.

What if I can't write anymore because I don't have enough stamia to stay at the computer long enough or because my mind doesn't stay focused? Just writing these few paragraphs makes me so tired. I've had to go back and make several corrections because the letters at times were so scrambled no words existed. What am I going to do?

Life has held many disappointments, trials, and tribulations over the years, but God gave me the strength and endurance necessary to survive, and at times even thrive, in spite of them. Now, as the words of Marty Robbins' song say, this time He may have given me a mountain, a mountain I may never climb. I guess time will tell.

Now, I'd better get ready to see the doctor. God willing all my fretting and worrying will be for naught. God willing.

Viv, tired of disconnections