Fighting Icarian Tendencies in a Chronically Ill Body

You’re doing ‘too much, too fast’, you say, likening me to the boy with wax feathers for wings.

I know the moral of his story is not to get too close to the sun, but who of us would even know Icarus were it not for the brilliance of his fall?
The spectacle of his momentary achievement?
The hubris he held, thinking himself celestial?

I suppose there’s something to be said about only being known for how you died, though.