Wane already.

I'm tired of being upset. It's been one week of ickiness, following two weeks of anxious waiting and worrying. Is it the tip of the iceberg? I'm told, and believe, that it will wax and wane. I'm tired of writing turmoil-ridden blog entries. I'm sure you're tired of reading of them.

This will be the second weekend with activities re-written by cancer. Last Friday we were supposed to run off to the Phil & Friends concert in the city. We wanted to dance & dance & celebrate the good, good, news that the hot spots on my bone scan were arthritis or fractures or something. What joy there would have been in hearing that I had arthritis!

Tonight we were supposed to head off to Yosemite -- camping with Eric's co-workers -- which is an annual event for us. We have lots of annual events. But I don't feel like we can go, even though I know it will be beautiful and sometimes distracting.

I can't trust myself not to sink into some kind of morose fog. And while I've known these nice teachers for years, I don't know if they'll be inclined to give me big, sad, eyes. Big, sad, eyes aren't the worst of it, though. They'll probably sit around the campfire and make a hundred and one comments about and predictions for a future that I will not see.

So ixnay on the camping.

Eric, who is the most wonderful person to lean into in the whole, wide, world, has said that he wants to have a happy weekend. I'd deliver it to him on a silver platter if I could.

But it's just Friday morning, and I have to work today. I guess I've chosen to work today. Either way, it's one foot in front of the other, again, and I'm hoping for the best. CN took the day off, at least. Can't beat that with a stick.