it's ok I'm not ok

'It's ok I'm not ok. OK?' This past week that little covid minx has been inhabiting my body. Beautiful friends have been offering help and support - how wonder-full. And they've prompted a realising... All seem to see my predicament as 'poor Lizzie, not OK' as they wish me better soon. Indeed, my mum and a very dear friend keep checking in on my progress as if they're hanging hope of my recovery SOON because I must be 'NOT WELL'. Well... I love them all, love their offers to help, and don't have the energy or inclination to explain that: May be I'm OK with being not OK The body is doing its thing. Plans have been changed. Plenty of unpleasant sensations have come and gone. This is far from a 'Pollyanna list' but: little or no voice prompts more listening little brain prompts small easy indoor homing 'chores'; polishing, mending little energy prompts simply sitting appreciating pigeons and tits on the feeder, blustering winds, reappearing sun making the trees into a glorious fashion…