In the spring of 2010, I became a certified medical assistant. I was really excited and looked forward to working with patients. I had done internships at a family medical practice and an OB-GYN office. I had wanted to work in the healthcare field since I was a junior in high school. Once my symptoms worsened and I got my diagnosis, well, that dream died a painful death. Initially, when I was spending so much time in bed due to severe, debilitating fatigue, my husband didn't get it and wasn't very compassionate. He eventually came around and his empathy bloomed like a rare flower. He used his gift of serving to take care of me. Unfortunately, that eventually caused us to become more like patient and caregiver than husband and wife. That broke my heart! Maintaining friendships is challenging. Because I no longer drive and am not always up for company, most of my friends have gone on with their lives. I remain just a blip on their radar. I know so many of you can relate. Loneliness is not something any of us would have chosen. We were made to be in a community. I grieve all of that and so much more, such as: My weakened muscles that prevent me from going on long walks. The fatigue that keeps me mostly bedbound. My inability to get in and out of a tub, which prevents me from soaking in a long, hot bath. The brain fog that takes over when I least expect it. Being robbed of the joy of cooking. Being unable to sit for long periods of time due to tailbone pain. At times, I have to allow myself a good cry because the losses pile up and need to be released like a rusty old valve. You and I may grieve differently and over different things that we have lost along the way in this journey, but I'm thankful for the comradery we can find here.