The nice waitress at IHOP this morning asked me what was wrong with my hands. This prompted a fresh flood of tears in what has been a rather teary week. I have noticed that, during these bouts, the corners of my mouth involuntarily pull down. This must stop. I don't want my face to freeze with all those horrible lines and wrinkles.
So, yes, it's been a rough week. Starting with the clinic last Friday, Louise has been standing right beside me, bumping into me, mocking me. Rather than pointing out how lucky I am thus far, she reminds me instead of what I am no longer. And I, foolish idiot that I am, play right into her hands.
I suppose I am grieving. This hurts like grief; it penetrates way deep inside and feels terrible.
As I am wont to do, I will get past this. If only there weren't so many reminders -- distractions, as a beloved friend so eloquently put it -- but there are, and I have to get my mind right and push forward.
(Thank you, dear friends, for putting up with me this week.)