When Life Hands You Lymes #78

Hey folks! It’s time for the 78th segment of my fictional story When Life Hands You Lymes. I hope y’all enjoy it!  
I reached over and fingered the carrot sticks that were on my nightstand. Carter had brought me a whole tray of food earlier that day but I hadn’t eaten much. “One. I’m thankful for my family.” They really did love and support me. Even Katie although sometimes we didn’t see eye to eye and that hurt. “Two. My music.” Music had brought me so much peace and comfort during the last couple years of my life and I couldn’t even begin to imagine what life would have been like if I hadn’t had it. “Three. Julia moving in. Four. That we know I have Lyme disease and I’m on the road to recovery. Five. That some day I will be all better and have wonderful health. Six. That I have happy memories from my childhood. Seven. That I have the ability to talk. And that I can hear. And that I can see. Eight. That my stomach aches have been slacking off. Nine. That I can be thankful.” 
Somewhere I here a clock chiming eleven pm and I realize that Dad must have left my hall door open when he left. I push the covers back and tentatively sit up. After a moment I swing my legs off the bed and stand up. “Ten. I’m thankful for the blessing of having medicine that I can take to help me get better. Eleven. That I have beautiful views from my windows. Twelve. That I met Amber. Thirteen. For Emerson Airlines. Fourteen. That my parents accept my dream of music instead of me growing up to work with Emerson Airlines. Fifteen. That I can count and add and subtract and do math in general. Sixteen. For hot water and cleanliness.” I limp into my dressing room and grab some clothes before heading toward the shower. 
“Seventeen. For food that I enjoy that’s on my diet. Eighteen. That I actually like Dr. Shay. Nineteen. That I’ve been able to do so much traveling in my life. Twenty. For how close Darrick and I have grown to each other. Twenty-one. That we don’t have any yippy little animals.” I shake my head when I think of my dream where Mom decided to raise poodles. It had been a disaster. “Twenty-two. That I’m pretty. At least when I haven’t just climbed out of bed. Twenty-three. For God’s grace. Twenty-four. For the knowledge that God has a perfect plan for my life.” 
When my shower was done I had been planning on going to my studio to practice but ended up lying back down. I wasn’t sleepy, but my energy level was low enough I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything productive. And the silence. It was getting to me. I longed for human interaction but since everyone I knew was probably asleep, I was alone.

I flip open my computer and click on Youtube. After looking around for a couple of minutes I choose an old Andy Griffith and enter the world of Mayberry. They residents there keep me company for the next few hours as I work on addressing envelopes for Mom’s latest charity project and work up the energy to go to my music studio. 

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