how do i give in to my chronic illness

I've had another really hard three days.
Endeavoring to rise above, cope with, find some hope.
To help cope with the fatigue, the weakness, the numbness in my right fingers,  my ever-so-weak right thumb, slight loss of control of bodily functions, dizziness, shakiness.
And other stuff.

Some of my recent symptoms I haven't had (to this degree) since 2013 and 2014.
I feel like I'm going backwards.

Tonight, as I rose from a lying to sitting position, the belly cauldron boiled.
That is, the heartburn that I manage daily.

And I started crying.
And I whispered, "I just want a break from the battle. I'm in constant battle with my body. Everything is such a task."

Tears rolled.
And I asked my self, 'I can't be at battle with my body. How can I give in? I need to give in.

I felt so weary.
I feel so weary.

~*~

how do i give in to my chronic illness
I typed the words into my computer and hit enter.

And I found the perfect article.
It describes my life.
And it describes how to cope.
It's not new information  for me.
I have used the suggestions and some of the exact words to help me cope.

Of all the strategies I've used to cope, most of them, I had not previously read about.
I think these coping mechanisms must be instinctual for survival.

Here's the link: When You’re Chronically Ill: “Giving Up” Versus “Giving In"

I agree with the whole article.

~*~

I went for my nine-month follow-up with the surgeon last week. I shared with him how I'm doing compared to pre-surgery status - that I'm 100% back emotionally (which is no small thing) and that I'm about maybe 40-to-60% back physically depending on the day. I'm still weak and I have little "spark" even in my good weeks between epidurals (currently more like "days" instead of "weeks," and "semi-good" instead of "good"). We discussed that an able-bodied person takes a year to recover from this kind of surgery. I might take 1-1/2 to 2 years, due to the my nerve damage.

I told him, "I'm holding out hope that getting the metal levels lower will make some difference. I'm gonna stay in denial until I die or get well." Denial that I'll be like this for the rest of my life.

I guess I should have used the word "improve" instead of "get well," because I really doubt I'll ever get well. That hope has pretty much faded. I guess I'm not in denial about that. And "well" is a relative term. But that's a whole nuther tangent.

Dr. Surgeon nodded his head with an affirmative look of "go get 'em girl." I gave a determined nod back. We both chuckled.

And he said, "I think you'll see a difference in the next six months. We'll check the metal levels then. Just keep doing your stretches, riding your bike, and walking as best you can."

He gave me a friendly, light, from the side, round the shoulder hug. It was the perfect gesture, like he was saying, I care and I'm rooting for you. 

Dr. Neurologist does the same thing - that light, round the shoulder hug. I saw him last week too when I got my six-week neck injections. He said, "Let's see if these help."

The neurologist also drew some blood for labs. All is normal on the lab front.

So, it is a wait-and-see and manage-the-best-I-can, which is what I always do anyway. It's what we all do. What else is there?

I'm lucky to have good doctors.