The second half of this week, my body decided to completely rebel against the travel, wedding planning, and general, joyful craziness that has consumed the summer.  I crashed.  Hard.  For the last two days, I’ve barely been able to crawl out of bed.  The energy required for me to type these words is monumental.  But in the moments when I can, it got me thinking.

As usual, the thoughts start with my list.  All the things I need to get done.  How I can’t afford to be sick.  Usually, that leads “Type A” me to a spiral of frustration and emotional distress. I end up canceling plans, apologizing to my family, and feeling generally guilty because I “couldn’t do anything”.

I took a different approach yesterday.  Instead, I looked up the definition of busy.  Here’s what Merriam Webster had to say:

busy   adj \ˈbi-zē\

busi·er busi·est

Definition of BUSY

1a: engaged in action : occupied b: being in use <found the telephone busy>

2: full of activity : bustling <a busy seaport>

3: foolishly or intrusively active : meddling

4: full of distracting detail <a busy design>

Hmm.  Engaged in action.  Yep, my body sure is, housing my out-of-control immune system.  Full of activity? Pre-diagnosis, I did two half-marathons, and had far more energy after each one than I have now.  Intrusively active is my favorite, because duh. Nothing about auto-immune diseases is non-intrusive.  And let’s see.  Full of distracting detail, as in a busy design.  Like the worst floral, plaid, stripe combination in HISTORY, done on VELOUR.

These four definitions reminded me that I am also busy, even when I cannot move an inch.  And I realized that it’s my job to remember all my body is dealing with, even when I feel to myself like I’m doing nothing.  So the next time I don’t get to something, my reason should reflect that instead of unnecessary guilt or shame.  I indeed got busy – just in my own way.

Now if you’ll excuse me…my tea, heating pads, and I are very busy this afternoon.