The Price of a good day

It was a marvelous spring day,

And for once I had a brief respite from pain,

And this made the day brighter,

The simple sound of wind blowing through the trees,

The smell of roses in the air

And the cloudless sky seemed to proclaim the new, crisp season of spring.

It was a day when one could look up and say, as the poet once did,

“God’s in heaven, all’s right with the world.”

And on that day, I tasted freedom, briefly.

I woke, longing for a repeat of that glorious day,

Instead, I found myself in the midst of battle again

First, the migraine robbed me of language for a while,

Then the fainting began again.

Battle weary, I try to fight with every weapon that I know

I fight with medication, with prayer, with all my being,

But I have trouble holding ground.

My weary body sounds the retreat, but my spirit longs for those moments of peace.

So here I am again- fighting for another day.

Curled up and crying, I give in to emotion raging between the disease and myself.

How do you measure days like this?

Is there a magic formula somewhere?

That tallies the price of good days?

If so, how much does one cost?

Is the price of one good day, two bad days or three?

And if so, how much will it cost to be free of this,

To rise and know that I will be ok?

But, no matter the cost, one day I will win this battle, and with the grace of God, I will not have to pay for days anymore.