I've talked often about this upcoming move. Every fiber of my being says disaster yet I have no choice. Losing my doctors at this critical juncture is too much for me to stand. Yesterday, as my parents were packing, they found & brought down a gorgeous batik bedspread from our time in Indonesia. As the house they bought has a small workshop in the backyard-that will become my home. There's no bathroom or closets, but I've been trying to refocus on the fun I can have semi-on my own again. As I was offered that bedspread, I realized it's not necessarily what I would chose but rather after a few hours of it spread out on the bed in front of me, it started choosing me. Showing me a glimmer of hope of a few things. Nothing will be fixed physically, I am not to be a miracle healed, but I can spread out all my boxed up vinyl records, & life, & at least listen to my records at full blast as the pain washes over me.