Monday morning I ended up at urgent care.

Lower left abdomen. Significant pain.

The doctor said diverticulitis. She prescribed two medications and sent me home.

I won't romanticize it. The medications have been hard. Nausea. A metallic taste that follows you around. The kind of low energy where the couch becomes your whole world.

There was a point where I thought about stopping.

Not dramatically. Just the quiet, tired thought — I don't know if I can keep taking these.

And then I remembered I had a couple of anti-nausea pills tucked away somewhere.

I found one. I took it. It helped.

That small thing changed the whole day.

Then I called the doctor and asked her to prescribe more. She did, without hesitation. Because that's what doctors are for. They're there to help you. Calling her wasn't weakness. It wasn't even a big decision. It was just using what was available.

I've been thinking about that this week.

Not the illness. But the pattern.

I didn't white-knuckle it. I didn't quit. I didn't pretend I was fine. I just kept reaching — for the pill I already had, for the doctor who could help, for whatever was in front of me.

Jaycee has been close all week. There's something about pulling a dachshund into your arms and telling her you love her that is genuinely medicinal. She doesn't ask questions. She just stays.

I reached for her too.

Maybe that's all steadiness really is sometimes. Not toughness. Not pushing through alone. Just knowing what helps and letting it help.

I'm on the mend. Slowly, but honestly.

Until next week,

Jane & Jaycee

P.S. You know that moment when you're almost through something but you can't quite see it yet and part of you just wants to quit? That's the moment the Sunday Spark was built for. One AI prompt, a worksheet, and my audio.