June 8, 2015

Trying to decide what to write about tonight. Do I pick up where I left off telling my tale of how I got to this point? Or do I write about what it is I am feeling at this very moment? It's hard sometimes to write about the past, and give it due justice, while still struggling to juggle the present. So, today wins. This is my story; slightly out of order.

I had perhaps a moment of clarity today, or maybe it was a complete come apart. I guess that depends on how you look at it. I was on my way to a small event, called Look Good, Feel Better, to be held at the West Clinic in Corinth, sponsored by the American Cancer Society. Basically they bring in a few cosmetologists who give makeovers and hand out free makeup. Chemo does hellish things to your body, and it also takes a toll on your skin. So, the idea is to cheer us up and make us feel all pretty again. It's a nice idea. And I was delighted to be invited to attend by one of the nurses at my chemo session last week.

The thing is, front the time my feet hit the floor this morning, I was already in a foul mood. I've been trying feverishly to get some home improvement projects completed that have been on going for far too long now. I bought my house a little over four years ago, and have been plugging away at it continuously, adding something here, redecorating there. For the most part, it's been an enjoyable process, and I love seeing the efforts of mine (and other's) hard work pay off with each small remodel. Well, the latest "big" project has been to enclose my patio space on the back of my house. It hasn't gone well, and by that I mean, it just hasn't gone - mostly due to the incredible amount of rain we've endured the last couple of months, which has delayed everything and everybody. Plus, as I have found out, contracting work out is a headache all on it's own. But alas, I finally had the roots, so to speak, of my patio laid out and someone hired to pour the concrete. And after a few sunny days, I felt sure today would be the day when they could actually get the concrete truck onto my yard and pour. But no, I awoke to dark clouds and thunder rolling. Here's the kicker, I no longer cared. It's like I finally just said, "enough" and honestly at this point, not real sure if I care if the damn thing gets built or not. (Okay, that's probably not completely true, but it's how I feel at the moment.) I'm over it. If it gets completed before the end of summer, fine, great. And if not, oh well.

Plus, my house was a wreck. Being sick all last week, plus going out on the lake this weekend, I had gotten far behind on housekeeping. People ask what chemo is like. To be honest, it's unlike anything I've ever experienced before and sort of hard to explain. The particular kind I am on now is called FolFox and it's one bad mama. I guess the closest way I can think to describe it is, pretend you have the flu. Now pretend you have the flu every other week. That's how it goes for me. I pretty much just try to load up on anti nausea meds and sleep through as much of it as I can. And I also lose the majority of a week of my life every two weeks. Of course, I still have the normal daily to do's, just like everyone else - clean the house, feed the dogs, pay bills, run errands, buy groceries, etc. Add to that, endless doctor's appointments and tests out the wazoo. I'm soon to be scheduled for even more, since my last tests only further baffled my doctors. And of course, it's summer, and I want to be able to enjoy time with friends, boating, and general moments of fun and pleasure. But when you try to cram it all in a week, it becomes absolutely exhausting. I feel like I'm marathon running every other week, just playing catch up. Even the "fun" times, start to feel like a chore. Adding to this, the whole home improvement fiasco, and well, maybe you get the idea.

Also to note, last night I watched a great movie called "The Judge". If you haven't seen it, I do recommend it. Spoiler Alert: Robert Duvall's character has stage four colon cancer. In the movie, he deals with one of the side effects of chemotherapy; dementia. Memory loss is just one of the many side effects. Just last week, my mother told me she had to keep going behind me to close the refrigerator, because apparently I would just forget I had opened it. This scared the hell out of me. I don't like the idea of not being in control or knowing what the hell I am doing.... unless alcohol is involved, and then it's kind of expected. And it could have been side effects from the drugs I am taking too. Ativan, prescribed for nausea, is in the same class as Valium, so it pretty much knocks me out and induces a 'fog' as I call it. But either way, it unnerved me. Point is, the movie, albeit a great film, hit a little close to home.

It's not much of a surprise then, that driving along highway 72, headed toward what should have been an enjoyable event, I had a mini breakdown. Here I am driving along, when it hits me that I have absolutely no desire to go this shindig. None. Nada. Zilch. As a matter of fact, the idea of going anywhere near the cancer center and watching other cancer patients get facials, seriously depressed me. So much so, that I started crying. I kept driving, tears pouring, when I had "that" moment. And I thought, "Why am I doing this? I don't want to do this." That's when I asked myself out loud, "What do I want to do?" Right now, at this moment "What do I WANT to do?" I have spent so much timely lately doing things I don't really want to do. Some because they are necessary. Others, because I feel like I should. And even some still, just because someone else wants me to, and I'm trying to make an effort to make them happy. Turns out, the answer to my question was ice cream. I wanted some damn ice cream. So I turned around on the highway and headed to Sonic. I ordered a caramel sundae with nuts - hold the whipped cream. I sat there and ate every single bite of it. Car turned off, window down, no music, no real thoughts. Just me and my ice cream. It may really be the best sundae I've ever had. I did the polite thing and called to inform them I wouldn't make it, and hopefully someone else got to go in my spot, as space was limited. I did feel slightly guilty about that, but not enough to give up my delicious treat.

So what's the point of telling you this? I really have no idea. There certainly isn't a moral to the story, except maybe sometimes you just have to do what you want to do. Find time to make yourself happy, even if it's nothing more than a caramel sundae from Sonic. And maybe that's why I'm telling you this story... because it make me happy to do so. It's my story. I will tell it however I want to.

Oh, by the way, after my Sonic treat, I came home and cleaned my house with some kind of fury. And it didn't exhaust me or wear me out. Instead, I actually felt rejuvenated when I was finished. So much so, that I took a shower, and got out my laptop to do a bit of writing. And to all you who follow this blog, I want to say thank you for listening to my ramblings as I muddle my way through this chapter in my life, one small moment at at time.