Tonight was the first night in a week and a half that Elly and I had been anywhere other than my mom’s. And that was just 2 minutes down the road to dinner at church. But it counts as something.

It HAS to count for something at this point. Days of looking at the same walls, watching (or, more accurately, tolerating) more Disney Jr. Halloween shows than I care to admit, and promising myself that today will be the day that I don’t nap when she naps (which hasn’t happened yet) have worn me down and my life has stalled to all but a halt.

Just as I was getting to my feet after surgery, a siege of strange fatigue swallowed me for almost a week and landed me back at the doctor to see what was up, which turned out to be just a return of anemia and strangely low vitamin levels. But then, on my birthday of all days, Elly gets up with a stomach bug. And two days later, I come down with it. Shocking, since I had the immunity of a dish rag.

I spent any awake time during the last week fearing just about anything – mainly that my frail dad would catch our dreaded disease as my blessed mother took care of Elly while I tried to recover – and by the weekend I was in such a pit, I thought I might never care to see the light of day again.

The grey days of fall haven’t helped things much and the fact that we’re not those people that can get sick, have a day or two of rest and then be completely back to normal with no lingering issues (like the fact that Elly’s appetite has only just now returned and that she mysteriously now won’t eat poultry or pasta) just prolongs everything, keeping “normal” further and further at bay. And when it was only 5 weeks ago that you moved to a new house, that totally sucks.

This is SOOO not what I would have wanted my guest room to look like after 5 weeks, and under any other circumstances, I have to believe it wouldn’t. But it still makes me cringe.

It’s taken everything in me to find the good in these weeks. I have to go back to the day we moved in when I was jumping around saying “I can’t believe we live here!” to remind myself what a blessing it is to even be here. I have to count the thousands of ways my family – MOM – has been able to help since we live so close. I have to look at the other rooms and be thankful that it’s only the guest room that looks like this. I have to remember the little things over the past five weeks that have been unexpected blessings. I have to force myself into a place of gratitude for just surviving what I can only hope has been an unfortunate string of events and not a preview of what our life from here on is going to be like. Because otherwise, I don’t want to play anymore.

But the one superseding factor that should for all intents and purposes keep me in a state of elation is the fact that with each day, dad gets closer and closer to being put on the liver transplant list and thus getting a transplant. Doctors talk in terms of “when’s” instead of “if’s” now. Tests and procedures have been put into motion in preparation for transplant. We’re all entering an unfamiliar and surreal season of waiting that is both scary and wonderful at the same time. Praise the Lord.

So while I tackle menial tasks like trying to keep the laundry from taking us all under or just survive some days, I’m going to try to keep perspective of this stall in life and trust that somehow, all that needs to get done will get done and I’ll be better for it. In the meantime, I going to ‘check out’ and watch some Ohio State marching band videos.

Because that solves everything.