Into the blue
The worst of illness is uncertainty. I've played this scenario back and forth each hour of the day for the last few months. I started losing sensitivity on my whole body from head to foot, even teeth and eyes. It is a very subtle feeling. Every day I wake up losing a little bit of sensibility. Suddenly, I realized that I don’t feel ticklish anymore. I can even take a shower with cold water in winter.
These last days, I have been to hospital probably as many times as in the sum of the last ten years. I maintain a positive attitude, and I have gotten over my fear of hospitals. I have undertaken an infinity of check-ups I had never heard about.
But all the results turned to be normal so far. Which means I do not have problems with my nerves. But why I keep feeling less sensitive?
I am aware that some parts of my body are leaving me; they are disappearing into the blue. The expression “into the blue” means entering the unknown or uncertainty, not knowing what you are walking into. That’s exactly what I am going through now. I am in the mood of blue. Blue is my medicine, blue is universal love; it has positive affects on the mind and the body. I try to capture the moments I feel so close to blue. I interact with it; I merge with it: I become part of it.