I did a thing today.
That sentence sounds almost comically ordinary. But moments like this have become so rare for me.
Out of nowhere, my brother Kieron and my best mate Jorge helped me get out of the house. We went for a meal. We laughed. We shared time together. For a little while, life felt less like something I was watching through a window.
So much of what people call ordinary becomes extraordinary when illness takes it away.
Before M.E., leaving the house did not require a strategy. A meal was just a meal. Sitting with people I love was not something I had to weigh against the physical cost that might follow.
Today was not a cure. It was not evidence that everything is suddenly improving. It was simply a moment of joy—and I am learning not to dismiss those moments just because they are small.
There is grief in recognising what has become rare. But there is gratitude too. Perhaps deeper gratitude than I knew before.