This week felt like I was running a marathon on a treadmill with no finish line, just a relentless loop of emotional exhaustion, medical battles, and work deadlines tapping me on the shoulder like an impatient teacher. I had to fight really hard to get the medical care needed. The kind of fight that drains you, that requires equal parts persistence, diplomacy, and a touch of righteous fury. And all the while, life didn’t pause politely. Nope. Deadlines still loomed. Meetings still demanded my brainpower. Groceries still had to be ordered, and new menus figured out.

There’s no “hold” button on life, no time-out where you can catch your breath. You can’t file a request with the universe: Excuse me, I’d like to sit this week out. The universe shrugs and says: Nice try, kid.

So I did what many of us do. I multitasked like a circus performer spinning too many plates. I got things done at work. I learned new grocery hacks. I stayed on top of deadlines. I kept moving, even when my mind and body wanted to curl up under a blanket and hit eject on the week.

But here’s the thing: I made it through. The week didn’t break me. It didn’t flatten me. It taught me that survival sometimes looks less like triumph and more like simply keeping the wheels turning. There’s grit in showing up, even when showing up feels impossible. There’s grace in doing the mundane, including emails, groceries, and laundry when you’re quietly carrying so much more.

So here I am on the other side of this week. Bruised, tired, but upright. And maybe that’s the win. Life doesn’t stand still. But neither do I.