How are you doing?

How am I doing?

That is a question I am asked quite a bit these days.  And, most of the time I'm not exactly sure how to answer that question.

Because, I think that most people are asking me with the intention of finding out how I feel physically.  And, while I do have some physical challenges I've never encountered before, the physical is not what tends to push me over the edge into, "Actually I'm not doing so great today."

And, with that comes the second part of that question for me ... that being, "Do you really want to know?"  I don't mean to be sarcastic (okay ... maybe I do sometimes), but do you really want to know?

How often do we ask that question of people everyday?  "How are you doing?"  It's a common greeting, offered flippantly the majority of the time.

And when we say it, do we really want to know how the person is doing?  Are we ready for the answer and are we expecting that person to be honest?

Because I'd venture to guess that the majority of the time the person I ask really isn't completely fine.  What are the chances really?

For instance, I was asked this question recently:  "Amy, how are you doing?"

And, I'm not sure what snapped inside of me this particular day at this particular time, but I opened my mouth and out came honesty:

"Actually I'm tired.  Really, really tired.  Tired physically, tired emotionally.  Tired of tripping when I used to be able to just walk like a normal person.  Tired of asking for help every time I need a jar opened.  Tired of trying to concentrate when I'm tired so my speech doesn't sound slurred.  Tired of sticking myself with a needle everyday.  I'm tired of the welts that are left behind, and I've only been doing it for 2 weeks.   And overwhelmed.  Overwhelmed by my diagnosis and my medication.  Overwhelmed by my job.  Overwhelmed by my kids.  Overwhelmed by the thoughts in my head about how much our life and goals have had to change these past few months.  And grieving.  Grieving what has happened and grieving what will never happen now that this is a part of our story." 

And then I breathed.

And received a *blank stare* in response.

Okay, truth me told, what I said at that moment was not so very eloquent as this.  It was probably more of a blubbering report of tiredness, frustration and insanity ...

But, what it did do was scare that person who asked me right off.  He walked away after only mumbling a couple words of disbelief.  Because all he expected to hear was that I was "fine."

I've been thinking about this encounter for a while now.  At first I was hurt and angry at him.  Because this is someone who should have been genuinely interested in my response.  Or, at least I thought/assumed he should have been.  Then I was angry at myself ... for opening myself and getting hurt.

Then I really began to think about it.  About how many times I've asked the same question:  "How are you?" Did I really mean to find an answer?  Have I always been expecting to hear honesty?  And, have I been prepared to sit and listen when all is not fine?

And, the honest answer, of course, is no.  Of course not.

So, the honest answer to that question for me it this.  Sometimes I'm fine, but sometimes I'm not.

But all the time I am more aware of myself and the world around me than I ever have been in my life.

And, for that, I'm pretty sure I'm grateful.  Most of the time.