It’s been awhile since I sat down to explore myself and my reactions to the world.

It’s not because I had no emotions, or found the world to be an unending paradise, but the opposite.

I’ve lived in a House of Strep, which felt like a burden of unbearable proportions. But we bore it, somehow.

Although I went to work and about my day, it was sheer survival mode instead of the joy with which I try to greet my moments.

I know too well that life is short, happiness fleeting. Each day, one more ends unexpectedly and we are all shocked and saddened, in varying degrees, depending on who and what they were to us.

These reminders are good for my soul. I sometimes become complacent about having a body that does what I tell it to, when so many do not.

I become used to not loving each moment where I feel no pain, so that when I do suddenly have it, it’s an insurmountable, immmovable mountain I can’t figure out how to climb.

In my case, within a few days of medicine, the glorious antibiotics which we’ve had for less than one hundred years, the light shone in the sky once more. I no longer felt as if I was drowning, and my joy returned, rebounding higher than before.

The difference between the pain residing in my throat and leaving on the amoxil express was an intense joy, my spirits soaring into the sky I could once again appreciate for its wide expanse.

The children who were again full of way too much energy. Back to superheroes and villains as they chase each other through the house, warming my heart and driving me crazy.

My convalescing body, feeling once again whole and hearty.

Although an everyday occurrence, the journey back to wellness was for me one of enlightening and magic.

Now, if only I could keep the memory of how good I feel close at hand when I start to complain. I’ll try harder this time.