See? Miracles happen all the time.

Let’s see if Lorna is really cured…

My Miracle Cure lasted as long as the typical Mayfly, or Jinx Fly (as it is aptly called): 2 days. Chuck kept checking with me. “Are you dizzy yet?” I kept spinning around like an ice skater practicing her finale. “Nope!” On the third day, I woke up to that old familiar “bed-spin” feeling. It was faint, but there. As the day progressed, so did the volume on the dizzy-dial. My Miracle had expired.

What's the difference between miracles and sticky notes? Not as much as you might think.

I called Dr. M. He explained that, with CFIDS, symptoms are unpredictable. I guess disappearing symptoms are equally squirrely. I didn’t wait for Chuck to call in for his Daily Dizzy Report; I called him and told him I was back to normal abnormal. He expressed proper disappointment for me, even avoiding an understandable “I told you so.” I appreciated his sympathy. Since it was Friday and we usually went out to dinner, he offered to take me out to a condolence dinner. I accepted.

He was very upbeat during the evening. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to cheer me up or if he couldn’t contain his own elation that life between us had resumed its old rhythm. Either way, he was happy and I was dizzy. It was as if the last two days never happened. But they did.

Why so glum, Lil Lady? It ain't like you never done played a dizzy blonde before. I kinda like you this way.

My Expired Miracle highlighted two undeniable facts:

  1. My husband was keen on his dizzy blonde wife. Since I was committed to our marriage and loved him, I decided we were together to learn valuable life lessons from each other. I had to learn compassion, forgiveness, and the joys of abstinence. His lessons were a mystery to me, which suggested I needed to work on understanding, too.
  2. I made a Real Deal with Someone powerful Up There. Taking it back wasn’t an option.

As if to poke a finger in an already sore eye, the Someone Up There started dropping hints as subtle as the H-Bomb that I wasn’t keeping up my end of The Deal. I was supposed to surround myself with only positive influences and get rid of all negative elements in my life; in return, I would find wellness. I got my taste of wellness. Now it was up to me to do some personal life “housecleaning.”

This was no case of simple "spring cleaning." I had some major dust-busting to do.

Later in the summer of 2008, Reggie, my beloved Cockatoo, died of some genetic nerve disease in his throat. He couldn’t swallow, which meant he couldn’t drink or eat. I did what I could for him until the day we had him put down at the very premature age of 4. His last words to me were a very weak, “Reggie…go…night…night.” I held him, rocked him and sang to him all the way to the vet’s office. Reggie was a bright light in my life, but he was also an incredible amount of work. Think of having a toddler hyped on sugar all day who pooped anywhere he wanted, and that was Reggie He complicated my life and I loved him for it. Without Reggie, life was lonelier and less interesting, but my back thanked me (no more bending over and cleaning up the cage) and several hours each day were freed up to pursue other hobbies, like writing or volunteering.

Me and Reg cuddling the day before he died. My smile is what you'd call a brave one.

Every year Chuck’s staff gave us a gift certificate to a spa or resort for our Christmas gift. That year, the gift was for a weekend at a Vermont B&B. Since mid-September was close to our real 25th anniversary, I checked with Chuck to make sure his calendar was clear before I made reservations. My mistake was expecting that he wanted to spend a weekend away with me. Since he wanted to leave Thursday and come back on Saturday, he conducted a lot of business on our get-a-away. I wanted to throw his Blackberry in the toilet. I dressed up really nice for dinner, but he barely noticed. I was snapping pictures and asking staff to take pictures of us, but I had to ask him to take a picture of me. The dinner was very nice, but he spent more time talking with the wait staff than me.

The one picture he took of me that evening. If it looks familiar, it's my Avatar.

We left a day early because he forgot he had a choral performance at some war reenactment celebration on Friday evening back at home. (In our area, war reenactments are so popular that the cannons are always loaded for when some bunch of rag-tag uniformed men get a hankering to pretend-fight.) He didn’t ask, but I offered to attend his performance, knowing how bloody important it was to him. Since many festive-war events were planned, I offered to drive separately so he could enjoy the whole shebang while I went home apre-performance. He insisted we drive together, then got angry when I wanted to leave early.

Snark Warning! It's not like he was one of the Three Flipping Tenors, although maybe there were only 3 tenors in the group...

The rest of the weekend was uneventful. He went his way and I had a several-day migraine.

How would Lorna reconcile her commitment to Chuck with her Real Deal?