Please forgive me dear readers for it has been one month and two weeks since my last update.
I admit I am almost running from all things that smack of 2012 – whether it be blogs, art bras, foods I found enjoyable … even clothes.
My problems are plain old every day problems now. It’s trying to figure out how to get the kids home from school every day with me working and an inconsistent, bandaided sitter approach to afternoons after our nanny quit.
It’s trying to figure out how to get a little extra sleep – past 6:30 – with three kids and two dogs who all arise at the crack of dawn and want to know on a given day what the weather will be, did we know it was the 1st of the month, would there be soccer, and what to do when their arm falls asleep. The last one happens in the middle of the night, too. As does visiting because they are cold, hungry, scared, or not feeling well.
We had strep and flu at the same time at the house. Our puppy apprently likes eating dog poop but last time she did it she threw up all over everything.
It’s good – normal. Vacuuming three times a week, washing clothes and hair often because of allergies, focusing on remodeling opportunities down the road, worrying about the impression I make at work. Planning trips between soccer and scouts and swim.
But then I am reminded that I’m not normal – and won’t be. I get a comment at my company retreat that I look so different – why am I growing my hair differently?
I have this super strange thing going on with my mouth where my tongue is inflamed and taste buds are enlarged and instead of just worrying about what kind of crazy thing I have going on – allergies? a virus? I have to set up an appointment to talk to my oncologist.
When I feel gas in my belly – is it the beans or is it cancer?
When I don’t get a good night of sleep and have to take a nap the next day I am reminded that my body is still only recovering from that “year and a half long battle” that you hear referenced in stories about other cancer fighters. I am that person.
I struggle with day to day being so mundane, so good, and yet so shadowed. I try to right myself by focusing on the accomplishments – a soccer win, kids scoring, perfect report cards, a win at work, a beautiful new master bedroom … and it helps most of the time.
But there are days when it all comes back – when the pain and fear of losing myself, my family, my battle … when all I want is just a break from this crazy thing that I now have that’s called life … and I yearn strangely for the days when I only had to worry about getting myself through the day as if that was enough. Now it seems like it’s never enough.
But, in general, when asked how I am, I am good. I am great. I am alive and healthy and happy. But don’t expect the same level of frenetic behavior as last year – I can’t make a bra and work and live and love. I can’t start a foundation and work and make dinner and clean up the dog poop. Some of you will – and can – and I totally love that you can.
I can’t any more. And that will have to be enough.