“Some days are good, some days are bad and some days don’t happen at all.”

That was one of the first exact sentiments which stuck to me shortly after my diagnosis. Truer words. Yesterday was a total wash in terms of physiological wellness, but I did my not-always-smartest best to live through my day as actively as possible. It’s my favorite way of not focusing on the dizziness and discomfort. So I went grocery shopping. There wasn’t even a moment shortly before bed where I felt okay. I slept moderately well (only up twice, then back to sleep) and today is a totally different ballgame. Today I feel alright and shouldn’t wait a minute on the household duties yesterday couldn’t entertain.

“A good day’s a good day no matter what.”
“A good day’s a good day no matter what.”
“A good day’s a good day no matter what.”


1:29PM: Angry/confused. Sitting to eat then showering to recenter.

2:17pm: Maybe quivering, inexplicable rage is a part of today’s aura for the “daily spell.” Raynaud and I are back in bed.

3:32pm: Starting to feel better.

6-9pm: Whee! I’m up and bouncy. I’m cleaning the kitchen, I’m painting. Awesome! What the What?

8:15pm: Took Gilenya.

9:06pm: Winding down has officially begun. Dear tomorrow, please be at least this kind.

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