The slow road to recovery includes a stops at the massage therapist. I had put off ever setting foot inside such a den of human comfort in part due to the money and in part due to my shape, which is to say round. The vertigo and headaches finally grew to be enough to make me go, and I'm glad I did. I've been twice now, two weeks apart, and I've got one more visit in a week, and it's done wonders. The chest pain I was feeling was in fact a knot in my pectoral muscles. My vertigo was exacerbated by tension in my neck and shoulders (if not entirely caused by it). The tension headaches, well, we all know where they come from: tension.

I've not felt this good in quite some time, but sad to say my memory is good enough to tell me I have felt better. Things are improving on my end though, which is a much needed blessing. I'm still not into the full swing of things, and I'm not sure when that will happen, but resolving this chronic pain problem is helping my attitude immensely. I suspect I'll be back to my brooding self in no time!

All kidding aside, I am still waging a war of attitudes, mood, and outlook. Life had lost a lot of its appeal, which I now attribute to the depression which can set it when one deals with a chronic condition of any kind. There's no mental rest, for even on a good day I found myself thinking, “Will tomorrow be another bad one?” All fun and joy has been robbed from me, but I think I am slowly gaining it back.

I have a greater level of understanding and a newfound compassion and identification with the woman in the Bible who touched Jesus' robe. I would too, even if it meant certain death: I'm not one to advocate asking forgiveness rather than permission, but in this case I understand and in my human weakness I'd do it. The personal blessing in this is Jesus' response to the woman: we have a compassionate God.