Rest, Healing, and Navigating the New Year
As we step into 2024, I’ve been reflecting on my journey—what I’ve learned, what I’m still navigating, and the words guiding me forward this year: hope and possibility.
These words feel tender right now because this season of my life has been anything but predictable. But they’re also an invitation to trust the process, embrace vulnerability, and lean into the care that’s been offered to me.
Here’s where I am today and how I’m holding onto both hope and possibility in the face of uncertainty.
Treatment Progress and Ongoing Challenges
I saw my doctor recently, and there’s good news: the treatment plan is working!
I’m officially off one steroid 🙌🏾.
I only need to take albuterol as needed now.
I have blood work to complete, and if my inflammation is down, I’ll avoid needing an MRI—fingers crossed!
The brain fog that’s been clouding my thoughts is starting to lift, and for that, I’m deeply grateful.
But this journey is far from over. I’m still living with post-exertional malaise (PEM), which means even small overexertions can cause my body to crash.
To help manage this, I now use a visible monitor to track my pacing and heart rate. It’s a helpful tool, but it’s not foolproof. Yesterday, I overdid it, and my body crashed hard.
On days like that, even moving feels impossible. And as a single mom with kids, resting can feel like a luxury I don’t have. But I’m doing my best, and that’s all I can ask of myself right now.
Leaning Into Vulnerability Through Support
Here’s something I’ve learned that doesn’t come easily to me: asking for support is an act of vulnerability.
I’ve spent so much of my life believing I had to do everything on my own. That strength meant never needing help. That worth was tied to how much I could carry.
But this season of rest and recovery has taught me the opposite. Strength looks like asking for what I need. It looks like leaning into the care offered by others and trusting that it’s okay to be held.
And you—you’ve shown me that I don’t have to navigate this alone. Your messages, kindness, and support have made rest possible for me. You’ve given me the space to pause, heal, and move forward at my own pace.
For that, I am endlessly grateful.
Hope and Possibility in the New Year
Even as I navigate the challenges of long COVID and PEM, I’m holding onto hope and possibility as my anchors for 2024.
Hope that my body will continue to heal, and that I’ll find ways to thrive within my new reality.
Possibility that this season of rest will create space for growth, clarity, and deeper connections—with myself, my work, and my community.
These words remind me that healing is not just about the absence of struggle. It’s about the presence of care, grace, and the belief that something beautiful can still emerge.
Gratitude and Next Steps
Thanks to your support, I’ve been able to rest when my body demands it most. I’ll be honest: I need to get back to work soon, but my body isn’t ready yet. So, I’m taking it a day at a time—pacing myself and trusting that healing is a process, not a race.
As I continue this journey, I’m stepping into the New Year with deep gratitude for the community that has held me. Your care reminds me that thriving is a collective act, and I’m so honored to share this space with you.
Here’s to Rest, Healing, and Possibility in 2024
This year, I’m choosing to lean into hope, embrace possibility, and trust that rest isn’t just resistance—it’s a radical act of care.
Thank you for walking this path with me, for believing in my healing, and for reminding me that vulnerability is strength.
With love and gratitude,
mth
If you’d like to help me continue focusing on healing, here are a few ways to support:
Venmo: myishathill
Paypal: Paypal.me/mthservives
Your contributions make a tangible difference and help me take this journey one step at a time.
