For the past couple of years, every single time I've called my hubby, I have had to listen to the same little ditty as his ring tone. I'm pretty much done with listening to that same tune over and over again. My hubby has never been able to figure out how to change the ring because when he chose the one I'm tired of, he did it by accident. We have talked about that song numerous times, but day after day, week after week, and month after month, I listened. But, good news, last week he got a new phone and imagine my surprise when I called yesterday afternoon and he had finally figured out how to chang the ring! All I heard was a very normal brrrring, brrrring, brrrring, and it made my day. When he answered my call I told my hubby that I was the happiest woman on earth because I never have to hear that song again and that he had made my day by finally figuring out how to change it. We laughed.
Later in the conversation my hubby asked how I was feeling. Well, yesterday was a wash out. I felt awful and slept 'til nearly three o'clock and never did get to feeling any better, even after I got up. So, I told him it was a rough day. He replied that he thought I said I was happy. Well I was happy, but being happy and having a fibro day are not mutually exclusive. It was an interesting observation on his part; that because I am feeling sick I can't also be feeling happy. But in reality, I spend most of my time feeling happy or satisfied. I focus on what's good in my life and I spend as much time as I can with people and experiences that make me feel good. Why would I want to add even just one more little bit of unhappiness or misery to my life? I choose to be happy, even on a bad day.
When I say I'm happy I don't mean that I am thrilled to be feeling ill. I feel at peace with where I am, and I know that good days are a blessing and bad days will pass. I will not allow my mood to be determined by my physical condition each day. I have my emotional ups and downs for sure, but they are more about my everyday stresses and experiences than my days living with fibro. Over the past months I have come to terms with the inconsistency of my physical wellness and my energy level. I can still do lots of things that I love to do and I can still be me. Fibro hasn't taken everything and what I have left is more than enough to build a wonderful life. I'm not a pollyanna who thinks everything is always wonderful, fine and perfect and I am not a curmudgeon, who complains about every one of life's inconveniences. I fall somewhere in the middle - some days are good some aren't, but I'm still okay.
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