I wrote a new post earlier today while I was in the chemo room. I went back and read it, and realized it did not make a bit of sense. Crazy drugs and crazy people will do that to you. The crazies will also crush your ability to put together coherent thoughts, stand up straight for any length of time, or tolerate any noise/chaos/changes without wanting to pull your hair out (if you had any to pull).
I have a lot to say, but I don't feel like I am able to get it down well enough or fast enough to justify telling it. Would you put up with one more bullet point list? Thanks. I want to say:
*That maintenance chemo is harder than regular "big" chemo in a lot of ways. At the top of the list: Going every single week. Thursday used to be my favorite day of the week, and now it is my least favorite. Even The Office can't make Thursdays OK for me anymore.
*After suffering debilitating leg pain, days-long headaches, and extreme fatigue, I spoke up and told Nurse Stephani that maintenance chemo was not at all like "drinking water," as I was told it would be. She agreed that something is amiss in the way my body is responding to the treatment; I have an appointment scheduled with Dr. M on October 18th to discuss what could possibly be wrong and what we should do to fix it.
*I talked with each of my boys and now have their blessing to walk around the house with my head uncovered. Goliath told me that I "look like Uncle Phil, only a girl" with my "new" hair growing in.
*Gus the dog is able to get into more trouble now that he's tall enough to reach more stuff. His cousin Moose refers to him as "that giant puppy."
*I really want to take the boys to the state fair, but I don't know if we can make that happen this year.
*I like to mark in my books when I read. I just finished a book that is so marked up, I don't know if it will even be helpful when I go back to look for something specific. This book tore me up in a good way, and it took me forever to read it because I kept having to stop and absorb the information and apply it to my situation. It is entitled to its own post later on.
*We are being blessed by friends bringing dinner to our house twice a week while I am doing maintenance chemo. A lot of those friends don't seem to think that their gift of food is adequate. Hear me loud and clear, you cooking pals 'o mine: There are days (like today!) when your aluminum dishes full of warm goodness make me stand in the kitchen and cry tears of gratitude. You are doing for my family what I can not do, and that is HUGE to me.
*Earlier this week, city workers came out to repair the sidewalk in front of our house. Baby and I went out and sat on the grass and watched the workers mix, pour, and smooth concrete for the new sidewalk. Little boys love big trucks, and he was a terrific mix of wonder and questions. I love that littlest man, and I loved making that memory with him. He reminds me why I must press on and keep giving everything I have.
*The Neulasta injection I receive every month costs $4,150.00. For ONE SHOT. Let that sink in.
*Insurance is so necessary, but is also such a pain in the rear.
*I love my job. I appreciate it even more now for the sense of normalcy it brings to my life.
*I still have two kids who need Halloween costumes.
*It is hard for me to answer when people ask me "How are you feeling?". I want to be honest, but I don't want to sound like I'm complaining.
*I really wish my sister and brother lived close to me, but I'm thankful for my very cool brother-in-law who does.
*My family is getting used to Hubby being at work all day. We are all adjusting to the new schedule, and we all really like it (especially the part where he comes home)!
*I've had a few lay-it-all-on-the-table talks with God lately. I've been very honest in telling Him that I am weary, and I just don't think I have what it takes to keep on going. I cry. I whine. I beg for Him to make it all go away. He tells me that He is nearby (Psalm 14:17), that I am safe (Psalm 91:1-2), that He has good plans for me (Jeremiah 29:11), and that there should still be joy in the midst of my troubles (James 1:2-3).
*A couple of friends put on a Pampered Chef show a few weeks ago from which all proceeds were to be donated to Team Allyson. I don't know what kind of funds a typical show nets, but it seems like everyone I know bought something! I am so grateful, and so humbled. Thank you, friends.