One of Those Days (The Good Kind)

Today was one of those days — and I don’t mean the ones that knock you down and chew you up.

I mean the rare kind… the clean kind.

The kind where your puppy finally eats her food without being hand-fed like royalty.

Where two solid Big Book meetings hold your spirit together.

Where you start building something small and sacred — just for you.

I started putting together a personal medical journal today.

Not some random note app, not a doctor’s portal that never has what I actually need.

A real, tangible thing I can hold in my hands.

Something they can photocopy if they want — but this one’s mine.

I’m logging everything now:

Current meds. Discontinued meds (and why). Allergies.

And in the back? A diary that’s part planner, part body tracker:

Food. Water. Coffee. Pain level. Exercise. Medication.

Because no one else remembers the med that tasted like pennies. But I do.

After everything that’s happened lately — I needed clean.

Not just emotionally. Like, physically clean.

So I swept. Vacuumed.

Ran Nicky’s feeder and bowls through the dishwasher like they were holding ancestral trauma.

Cleaned her blankets, her toys.

Two loads of laundry. Folded. Put away.

I felt tired. But I also felt… real.

Grounded. Capable. Mine.

And Nicky?

She finally laid down on the bed. Not for the night — not yet — but she’s learning.

The bed isn’t a rollercoaster anymore. It’s a soft place to land.

We took a long nap together.

Then I fed her and we went to the park.

No other dogs, so I let her go full gremlin with the Nerf gun.

She chased the ball until she flopped dramatically in the water like,

“Mother. I have conquered enough.”

Back home, she got a big clump of ice in her crate (so it doesn’t fly everywhere — because we know).

I took a hot shower.

And in that shower, I imagined the day washing me clean.

All the trauma. All the heaviness.

I saw the clean water sinking into my skin, filling me with focus, with presence.

I meditated. I let it be quiet.

Then FaceTimed with David — yes, that David. He’s still around.

Apparently I need more protein (which, same), so he surprised me with a poke bowl.

It was thoughtful. I felt seen.

And it’s one of the few things I can eat when I’m in pain.

I folded the rest of the laundry.

Played with Nicky a bit more.

Took her out for one last pee.

And now — we’re calling it a night.

Sometimes healing isn’t dramatic.

Sometimes it looks like bowls in the dishwasher, ice in the crate, protein in a paper bowl,

and a body that finally, finally, feels like home again.

Today was one of those days.

And I’m grateful.

With Love,

Dana & Nicky