A Spoonie Victory: Sproat Lake
I'm going to be very honest: I'm struggling, friends. Fatigue is high. Brain is foggy as hell. The words are...it takes 30 seconds to think of the next word so this isn't going to be a great post. But I'm committed to publishing one blog post per day for 100 days (a personal challenge) and I'll be damned if I miss today (day 13/100).
Yesterday brought me an unexpected miracle. I was having a quiet day at home (as per usual), unmotivated, feeling suffocated by fatigue, depression, loneliness, self-disappointment...and then my phone buzzed with a text.
"Hello beautiful, the sun is out! How are you today? Do you want to get outside?"
In that moment, Canticle felt like my guardian angel, reaching out at the exact moment I needed to throw me a lifeline and pull me out of my quagmire. I jumped on her offer and before I knew it, I was in a van with two other adults, four children, and one tiny dog on our way to Sproat Lake.
The last time I had been there was also the first time I had ever visited the lake. The date was July 12, 2018. This was two months after my husband and I had taken possession of our first home in Port Alberni and were in the gradual process of moving over possessions from Vancouver. At that time, I was in rough shape. I was coming out of the sickest, scariest period of my life where I had felt the closest to death I'd ever felt. Knowing now that people die of Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, I can see how serious my condition was at that time. Body in system failure. Inability to eat. Losing sensation in limbs. Really feeling like things were going seriously wrong internally.
July was a shorter stint staying in Port Alberni, this time with my parents. I was too sick to live on my own for long and still had medical appointments in Vancouver. My parents drove us out to Sproat Lake on the twelfth to check it out for the first time and the approx 25 minute drive already drained me. I was able to walk down to the water from the parking lot but I couldn't go any further. I sat on the picnic benches while my parents walked down the path to find the petroglyphs that Sproat Lake is well known for. I couldn't even envision what the walk looked like but I hoped that one day I would regain enough strength and energy to see these petroglyphs with my own eyes.
Well, yesterday was that day. February 8, 2020.
When the ability to walk without detrimental consequences has been taken away from you, regaining that ability becomes miraculous. You no longer take for granted something that most of us grow up never giving a second thought to. Not me. Not anymore.
Every time I walk a certain distance that exceeds what I was once able to, it amazes me because for so many years, it didn't seem like I would ever be able to walk further than a slow 5 or 10 minute stroll (and it used to be a struggle just to do that).
It felt SO good to be outside yesterday. To be by the water. To feel the sunshine on my face. Finally, a break in the constant precipitation. To be under the trees. To experience the miracle and victory of my legs carrying me all the way to the petroglyphs and back.
This was a spoonie victory. And for that I am grateful.
The Christina of July 12, 2018 in the below picture was too frail, depleted, and sick to do anything more than accept her current circumstances and maybe lightly hope for the day she'd make that walk herself. The Christina of today, despite being fatigued, is doing so much better health-wise in comparison. This solitary living experiment in Port Alberni is working. Thank you, Universe.
