get 'er done

The ups and downs of a chronic illness make me motion sick.

It's really when I experience too much stress or too much activity that my immune system's knees buckle and without the fort secured I end up getting invaded (ie sick). And when there is an invasion in my body, it's not just a neighboring country - it's a full on universal effort - every country and neighboring planet wants a crack at it. No cute little tummy ache or sniffles for me.

No, my body gets hijacked by viruses, bacteria, and what can look like downright poor upkeep with the seriousness of an accountant, and the determination of an IRS auditor.

We're talking simulataneous multiple illnesses, all impacting different systems.

We're talking "stump the doctors" with how many different unrelated things are happening as they try to find an underlying connection or cause.

You'd think the invaders were planning their stradegies together for decades - Shock and Awe - that's how quick, skilled and successful they can be.

My body is the ultimate multi-tasker. True story. As walls across the vast fortress that is my body crumble and invaders file in and get settled, somehow my body still manages to launch multiple counter attacks all over the place, taking down each illness.

It takes a bit longer to heal from multiple illnesses when you're stressed out and have a chronic condition (especially when the particular illness doesn't seem to have a source/reason/cause and therefore medication determinations becomes a guessing game). Anyway, the job still gets done (until one day, it doesn't).

All Eyes

There are many things to like about Brooklyn. The food, the people, the proximity to everything one needs to be near, the friends, the stoop sales, the thunder and lightening storms, the culture, the rampant availability of the ice cream truck during all four seasons, and of course the comedic bickering and banter one hears just about everywhere.

But one thing I love about Brooklyn that I never expected was how often I hear "Miss, you have beautiful eyes, God bless you." No kidding. People literally insert this phrase into the middle of conversations with other people as they are passing by.

The reason this compliment is worth mentioning is because I was a bit worried when I moved here about getting too much attention... specifically, attention aimed at my chest - which was a constant theme while living in Boston regardless of what kind of shirt I was wearing.

Having the attention focused on my eyes makes me feel like I'm somehow less objectified (eyes are the window to the soul), like I'm somehow in a more wholesome environment - more wholesome than a puritanical bedrock? Um, yeah.

Anyway, I do have beautiful eyes. Thank you for noticing.