Every day for the last week I’ve talked about having a sinus infection. And whereas I wish I could say that I’ve been healed (and therefore talk about something else), I haven’t been. Despite the fact that I’ve tried most everything I know to do, nothing has worked. Last night I saw mild improvement but still ended up coughing myself to sleep. Today has been more of the same–gross. Honestly, I’m not sure that what I have IS a sinus infection. Maybe it’s a cold. Maybe it’s allergies. Dad says ragweed is higher than it’s ever been. Although last year I was tested for over fifty allergens including ragweed and didn’t react to a single one of them.

Take that, ragweed. You can’t get a reaction out of me.

Rather than being my usual take-charge self and flitting all over Van Buren and the internet in search of an immediate cure, I’ve spent most of today watching Netflix–in bed, in a chair, on the floor. In the last twenty-four hours I’ve watched four movies or documentaries. I’ve also done some reading. And some laundry. I’ve really tried to take it easy. To just be frickin’ sick and stop trying so hard. To stop being afraid of what might happen if I don’t. If I let go.

This is really hard for me to do.

It’s tough to know when to try and when not to try. For example, if I had’t scoured the internet for home remedies a year and a half ago, I never would have learned about the probiotic that’s been so helpful to my sinuses. But there’s obviously a point when it’s best to call uncle, to let your body rest and decide what’s best. Even if that means being sick.

One of the documentaries I watched this afternoon was called Be Here Now: The Andy Whitfield Story. Andy was the star of the television series Spartacus: Blood and Sand. This means at one point he was strong, healthy, and looked great in a loincloth. However, when he was in his late thirties, before the second season of Spartacus could begin, Andy was diagnosed with cancer. And although he underwent chemotherapy and radiation and even traveled the globe to supplement his treatments with Ayurveda, acupuncture, and yoga, he eventually died, leaving his wife and two small children behind.

The documentary mostly features Andy and his wife discussing their journey with cancer. And whereas for a year or two they were both convinced that he’d overcome his disease, there’s a point at which Andy starts thinking he won’t. The chemotherapy’s not working, the radiation’s not either, and the cancer keeps spreading. Andy says, “I finally thought, Maybe this is it for me, and it was a relief, to stop fighting.” His wife says, “I kept thinking that I needed the cancer to be over so we could get on with our life, but the cancer is our life right here, right now.”

Wow. How many of us think that our life will really start when? When we get over our illness. When we meet a lover. When our ship comes in. I know I think this on almost a daily basis. And whereas I hope many of my dreams will come true, even if they do, they’re simply fantasies now; they’re not my life. Now my life is living with my parents. It’s going to therapy and writing this blog. It’s getting a sinus infection (or cold) now and then. So I’m trying to remind myself that it’s up to me whether or not I embrace these things, whether or not I make the most of them, whether or not I choose to–as Andy had tattooed on his forearm–be here now.