New Normal

Deep breath. Four more minutes. She can release and move forward. It's brutal. The discomfort, the not knowing. Trying to be good, trying to be aware, every single thing she puts into her mouth, on her skin. Absorbability is key. She's losing weight, bleeding. Steroids are her enemy but beyond this it's surgery which terrifies her. Being attached to a bag. Losing a part of her body, even if it is inside of her, unseen, unknown, they way her skin, her face are. Her body's betraying her. Genetics, they say. Maybe not, maybe a bacterial infection or parasite that went wrong. After all, it's a mystery. They keep throwing things at her disease, seeing what sticks. Doctors have unspoken permission to bring you as close to death without killing you while searching for some sort of cure. Respite. There is no "cure." She will live this forever. It may go into remission but she will never be able to donate organs. Even blood. She's faulty. Broken. Through no fault of her own. Or is it? Did she do something somewhere along the line to manifest this destiny? That trip. This meal. That extended sickness she waited in dealing with for one week too long ten years ago. Facts, figures, tests, pictures and still no concrete answers. She lives in a constant state of discomfort that others would classify as pain but her new normal erases any sense memory of what once was. She jokes her threshold is so high she could birth triplets through her eyelids. It's not that funny, really. Closer to the truth, though. A constant tightness, a swollen ache, complete loss of languid grace that comes with the physical freedom of easy movement. Some days are better than others. Lately they're barely tolerable but it's been happening for so long that she's getting used to this new normal. No more what if's or could be's. This is life for her now.

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