Finger Crossed

I'm back at work today, feeling much better.  Yesterday is hazy... I have little memory of it.  I didn't have a fever this morning, so decided to come in and try to get a few things done.  Winter break approaches, and there's so much to do.

 

I've been here for fifteen minutes and I'm starting to feel feverish.  I forgot to bring my thermometer, so who knows?  I'll just do what I can do.  Today is already waaaay better than yesterday.

Argh.

Fever, chills, muscle pain... home from work today. Hopefully this will resolve soon.

Inner what?

The nurse who set up my IV today was a cheerful, well-meaning, Chatty Cathy.  It was all I could do to not grin bitterly at her while answering her questions. Yes, I celebrate Christmas, and yes, I'm nearly done with my shopping.  Yes, I work.  

 

I said, "As opposed to all those folks who JUST LOVE IT", when she said that she could tell that I don't like being stuck with needles.  Actually, I don't mind being stuck with needles.  I just have a strong preference that they get it the first time, and not try multiple times, saying, "onetwothree OUCHYOUCHY... almost there... breathe in... almost there... ouchyouchyouchy... okay I'm just going to wiggle it a little itsy bitsy bit!"

 

When I settled in to read, the first article I found was an essay in Newsweek.  This woman -- a young breast cancer "survivor"... wrote about her "Inner Cleavage".  After her breasts was loped off, and her hair fell out, she actually felt more beautiful than ever, on accounta she found her Inner Cleavage. 

 

Now she has fashion-forward breasts (she had the other one re-done with the reconstruction) and her hair is long... and she says she knows that men find her attractive again, but she tries not to put too much emphasis on her external appearance anymore.  All in all, breast cancer has been a real boon for her.

 

Bully for her.

 

After two hours, Nurse NiceyNice came and took out my IV.  "Onetwothree ouchyouchyouch!"

 

She gave me some extra bandaids and sent me on my way with an appointment for next month.

 

I came home and zoned out in front of the TV.  Then I wrote this.  And now I'm going to bed.

 

 

 

 

Can't Slow Down, Can't Let Go, Can't Hold On

Our Christmas tree is very pretty. It's very shiny. It was a big, big, project this weekend.

I have another 2-hour infusion of the bone-strengthening drug tomorrow.

It's hard for me to complain. I'm not in any intense pain. I have aches here and there... nothing too bad. The thing is, though, I'm so tired. It's hard to describe, and it's hard to be happy. I'm so afraid that it's not going to get any better, and then I think... BETTER? Give me a break. You should count your blessings now because it's going to be so much worse.

I want to jump back to some healthier time, but I can't go back and I can't stand still.

I can't believe I'm up this late.

I've been going to bed soooo early. I've been sad in the evenings -- sad and tired, or perhaps sad because I'm tired. I've been in bed by 9:30, and that's been nice. Plenty o' sleep. And Eric makes me hot chocolate whenever I ask. That's nice, too.

Work has been busy -- those five, repetitive meetings... five times guidelines for reimbursement of Medi-cal referrals. That'll make for a long work day.

I still like blogging. I like writing about Eric. I'm not sure if anyone's noticed that.

I had a terrible cold during my first Christmas with Eric. He drove me around Oakland and environs, searching Christmas tree lot after Christmas tree lot, on a dark, cold, damp, night. He'd pull out the trees and spin them around for me. Then we'd take another tour of the lot, and he'd pull out the trees and spin them around again.

I didn't know that I was going to spend the next seventeen years loving him more and more. I didn't know that we'd get married. I didn't forsee any of it -- couldn't have imagined it, really. But I did know that he was good and sweet and kind. I knew that I wanted to know him for a long, long, time.

Sigh.

I'll attend three meetings today -- three exactly identical meetings -- which are the same as the two meetings I attended yesterday.

They're training sessions that I have a small role in. Sure makes for a boring day.

And now it's time to leave for work!

Quick Update

I've just been working and going to bed early -- some nights as early as 9:00 PM. I'm very tired. Tired, tired.

Wanting to enjoy the holiday season but on a serious energy budget.

Christmas, 1970

I was five years old, I had a new bicycle and a bad, unintentionally asymmetrical, haircut. My mother referred to this 'do as "a pixie".

I'm posing on the front lawn of my familial home in Long Beach, CA. I'm carrying the rest of my Christmas presents in a basket I've created by pulling up my shirt. I wanted the picture taken with ALL of the presents. I remember my father laughing as he took this photograph.

I'm so glad I'm not at work.

When someone dies quickly and unexpectedly it's like a giant, horrible, wave that rearranges lives and throws people into convulsions of grief. There are no rituals or niceties, no easing into the idea. There's no chance to say goodbye.

More than one of those waves have washed out my beach, and I know how awful it is.

I don't think it's so awful for the dead person, though. I believe death to be a brick wall and a void. I've cried many tears for people who've died -- cried FOR them, for what they've missed -- but I've never believed that dead people are suffering, or have any consciousness at all. They're just ashes and dust. Grief is a luxury of the living.

When someone is known to be dying (kind of funny, since everyone is known to be dying, but you know what I mean), there's opportunity for folks to say goodbye, if they want to and are able.

But for the person who's dying... boy oh boy to those goodbyes mount up. There's a goodbye in every hello. I say goodbye a hundred times a day. I say goodbye to mornings in bed, and coffee, and Eric reading the newspaper. I say goodbye to the big things and the small things. I say goodbye to reading a good book, and I say goodbye to Christmas, and then in the morning I say goodbye to everything again.

It's not the worst thing I've ever experienced, but it's not going to make the top ten BEST things, either.

I'm 99% sure I'll wake up in the morning and have another cup of coffee. I'm 80% sure I'll see another Christmas next year. Still, here I am, seeing all it, everything, in a new and not-really-appreciated light, and wondering if a tsunami isn't really a blessing, after all.

December!

Somehow, amazingly, it's December.  I don't know how it happened.  Time really does rush by, faster & faster... and I am currently in no position to be flying through my days.

 

I like December, and I like Christmas.  I really do like Christmas.  It's not complex for me. 

 

I have so much work to do.  I'd better get to it.