Celebrating a cold

Erin caught the current coughing and congestion nuisance that's being passed around and shared (a little too unselfishly). Using our Rife machine really does seem to help a cold from becoming full blown (sorry for the pun). We didn't think of using it right away, but since we have, her symptoms have calmed down quite a bit. Still, rehearsals for "I Remember Mama" (her latest play, which I've neglected to mention here,) are in full swing for opening night the first weekend of December, so extra rest time isn't available. (In her "healthier" state, when rehearsals get to be every night, she must rest both her body and mind all day just to have the strength she needs for her work that night, so there is no give - no extra time for rest.

Brady and I started fighting unusual headaches and muscle aches a few days after Erin became ill. It finally occurred to me yesterday, that we have Erin's cold virus. I've learned from studying about Chronic Fatigue that when your immune system is not working right, you will not get colds - you can get the virus, but it doesn't play out like a person whose immune system is strong. I'm so glad to finally understand that. (For quite a while, I'd convinced myself that our lack of colds meant our immune systems were better then most, a disillusionment I'm quite embarrassed to admit). Even though our struggles with health are still great, when we're less ignorant about what's happening, we don't have the confusion - therefore, we don't become as overwhelmed or discouraged when setbacks occur. Being less ignorant leads to another obvious benefit: a better knowledge of what to do; granting us hope for that all-so-elusive progress we desire.

So I'm celebrating Erin's cold. She's had a couple of these now - not the cold that comes when our bodies have repeatedly warned us to "stop getting out of bed and trying to live so much," and we haven't listened; but the cold that causes her friends and fellow workers alike to suffer. Yes! (Not Yes! for everyone's suffering, but Yes! to a body that acts like our old selves.)

Please continue to keep us in the forefront of your prayers (remembering to include a celebratory thank you for Erin's coughing and congestion). I often use the word, "slow", when telling people about our progress. But that conjures up the phrase "slow as a turtle," which wrongly illustrates. Trying to recover from a strange disease, such as Chronic Fatigue, doesn't look anything like the pace of a turtle, (I've observed many pet turtles, so trust me). It looks more like a film strip that keeps getting caught in the projector and, because it's a bit damaged, seems impossible to advance.