I’ve never really been on board with the whole “adult birthday” concept. It’s always felt weird to me to celebrate being, say, 28. I’m too old for my mom to bring cupcakes into my office, so what’s the point?
This year, especially, my birthday is just another day I’d like to ignore.
Leading up to today, Brian kept asking what I wanted to do for my birthday, and I’ve repeatedly told him I want to skip it.
“We’ll celebrate when there’s something to celebrate,” I’ve told him.
So here we are, on the day I turn 28, and I don’t have a special outfit to wear to work or a Facebook event telling everyone that tonight is about me. Instead, I’m sick. Friggin’ still.
I spent the entire weekend on the couch, and by last night I really reached my breakdown-meltdown point. I couldn’t stand the noise from the TV. I hated the feeling of the leather couch against my skin and I got this overall feeling that I was trapped in a prison of my apartment — and a prison of my body.
I did spend a lot of time this weekend baking. I made oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and zucchini chocolate chip muffins. So I have a lot of those hanging around.
I’ve also developed tiny red, itchy bumps all over my body, which is apparently a side effect of the Humira. So how fun: I get the annoying side effects yet none of the benefits! So far this drug is the absolute best!
My plan for today is to make it to the office for an 11 AM meeting and see what happens from there.
If I can work a full day, great. If I’m back on the couch watching “Beverly Hills, 90210” by 3 PM, then I’ll let you know the latest between Slutty Kelly and Sexy Dylan.
There will be no cake. No celebrating.
At least not yet.
I do, as always, have some birthday wishes, though. I realize that saying them “out loud” means they won’t come true, but I’ve also admitted recently to wishing on imaginary morning rabbits, so I think we’ve passed the point of practicality here.
Here are a few things I’m wishing for today, on my 28th birthday:
I want to run one lap around the Reservoir. Maybe 12 laps. But I’ll settle for one, 1.57-mile circle around that beautiful body of water.
I want to miraculously be able to run the Brooklyn Half Marathon in two weeks. I know I keep saying I have no intentions of running it. That’s the story I tell all of you. In my head, I haven’t given up on running this race, even if it means I walk the damn thing. In my head, I still think I’m going to be at that start line. It’s delusionally optimistic. I know.
I want all the friends I’ve pushed away and ignored since getting sick to know I still love them and miss them.
I want someone to unpack my suitcase from Arizona. It’s been a week and the pile is somehow getting larger.
I want to have an entire GChat conversation with LBC without complaining. She’s been taking the brunt of my frustration about this disease and I’m beginning to feel badly. So maybe today I will talk about her happy things instead of my sad ones. Cheese!
I want my friend Sara to move to the Upper East Side and not further downtown where things are “cooler” and “trendier.”
I want to go a day — I’ll bargain for an hour, even — without pain. I just want to sit comfortably for a few minutes without writhing around in discomfort.
I want to go back to Matt P.’s spin class at Crunch.
I want Celine Dion to go on tour, and I want tickets to her NYC show. Front row or bust.
I want to sleep through the night. In bed. Not on the couch.
I want a new couch.
I want to go back in time to be able to plan Tyler’s first birthday party, which happened yesterday, and which I wasn’t able to attend…
It broke my heart not being there. Facetiming my way in wasn’t the same.
I want another new Erica Sara Designs bracelet.
I know I said no cake, but I’m changing my mind: I want that really delicious three-layer Pepperidge Farm cake that they sell in the freezer section at drug stores and gas stations. Vanilla cake. Chocolate frosting. One fork.
I want to have enough energy to walk from the couch to the kitchen and back without having to take a break.
I want to remember what it feels like to be healthy. I truly have no recollection of what that’s like, and that sucks.
I want to finally write the blog post about how I’m feeling better, and how much I’ve appreciated all of your kind words and your support during these dark days. How sick are we all of reading about Crohn’s disease? Trust me, I know. But I’ve got nothing else!
I doubt I get 28 wishes today. So if I only get one, let it be this one…
I want to be a healthy, happy 28-year-old. Starting today.