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Yesterday another moment of body's betrayal. Or, rather, my body doing what it does on its own, faults and all. A migraine I could feel in my fingertips, eyelashes, down every button of my spine. Many hours lost to sleep but the ones that weren't were spent in that familiar agony of wanting nothing to touch me. I want to be untouched but not alone. Even a dog barking outside sends tiny fractures through every pane of me. When I shuffle to a different room I do so with head leading me. No talking because my words slur. All these years in and it's still embarassing.

The beast stuck around today and I relented, taking my last pill. I was hoping to wait it out without intervention, but couldn't anymore. Too tired. So it goes with health care and prescribed things--I'm only allowed so many solutions per month, and I try not to run out but usually do. It's a tale that many of us with chronic conditions can tell. No other way to say it: it sucks.

But, I did get relief, eventually. I can almost make a fist again, and can string together sentences beyond a few words. That feels like a miracle. All these years in and it's still a miracle. I'll take it. I showered, ate food, plucked my way through half a poem. A human feeling is coming back to me, and the swirl of relief and sadness it brings with it is strange and comforting. I know it will happen again but for now I am almost alright.