Frustration is an emotion that has oft hung over my shoulders the past two years.

A year ago, when the docs hit upon a diagnosis, they told me that within a few weeks to months I would get better and be back to normal, it would just take "time and patience," of course.

A year later I'm still waiting for that "time and patience" to bear its fruit.

Admittedly, I have improved leaps and bounds since those first six months two years ago, but there are still symptoms I just can't seem to shake loose.

It is easy for me to be frustrated at myself because of that.

This summer, having no job and not being in school, I've had high expectations for myself that everything would quickly go away. After all, as of late my life has consisted of nothing but: sleeping, eating, more sleeping, more eating, and hanging out with friends. What could me more conducive to improving one's health than that??

Thus, when my symptoms flared last week I became frustrated: "What the flip is wrong with me?? Why is it so gosh darn hard for me to just get better?? I reprimanded myself.

Yet frustration is a waste of time and energy. So, at the first sign of symptom improvement, I decided I wanted to channel my frustration into something positive.

I got back on my bike.

Day 1 of biking was absolutely beautiful, and the joy ride significantly improved my physical well-being and mood for the rest of the day.

Day 2 of biking was also beautiful as I rode in summer's morning nature, singing along to Quietdrive and Mika playing through my Ipod. But when I got home a 10 minute nap to cure a bit of fatigue turned into an unplanned 5 hour hibernation. By the time I woke up the day was shot, I was still exhausted...and I was now frustrated. I ate a late dinner, went back to bed and slept the rest of the night.

Day 3 my lungs were killing me. I skipped the biking completely. When symptoms like this pop up I always find myself between a rock and a hard place of:

a) being rational and letting my symptoms wait themselves out

versus

b) being rational and immediately acting on my least favorite and most frightening symptom.

But using my inhaler helped.  And as long as I lied horizontal, didn't move too much, and didn't breathe in too much my lungs didn't hurt so bad. And so, I stayed in bed half the day.....frustrated.

Today is Day 4. My bike is waiting for me, collecting another day's worth of dust and yet another layer of:

Frustration.