So I had all my consults with specialists this week. It was really fun, seeing that I love going to medical places so much.
Anyway, the oncologist wants me to start with chemo up front. They say I’m strong and young and they think I’ll kick butt with that. Then more chemo and radiation and then surgery. The surgery won’t be until October?! I’m like—I don’t know about that.
They usually start with chemo and radiation then surgery then more chemo.
I told them at first—just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Now I have questions. I don’t want to wait til October for surgery. At least I don’t think I do. I called my regular doctor to ask what she thinks.
Meanwhile, our awesome neighbor Kim brought us chili and wine yesterday. Yum. And I slept like a damn rock last night and it totally ruled. I’m up and making a grocery list and watching our cat Ghost stalk birds on tv. She’s a hoot.
That’s all for now. I’m feeling okay. House is spotless, laundry done, just waiting on the weekend.
Wish Covid would piss off. Would like to do normal shit again.
I thought I had writer’s block before the government mandated stay at home order. I’m really in a funk with it now. This whole situation blows so hard.
Does anyone else’s body feel weak and achy really bad these days?
I find myself wanting to write since it seems like the perfect time to do so, and writing has been something I’ve always considered fun, but I don’t even know what to say anymore.
This affliction is all in my mind, I know. It’s like when you want to exercise but feel like you can’t bring yourself to just do it. Once the workout shoes are on and you get going, you do it. I always feel better after I move my ass and exercise. I know I would feel better if I just forced myself to write again.
But goddamn, am I sad. And I’m scared. I’ve never been scared really in my whole life. I mean, I was scared after 9/11, but after the tragedies, when everyone pulled together, I felt hopeful again. This time around, I’m just overwhelmed. You could say I’m almost paralyzed. Every single thing I do anymore I have to force myself to do.
Are we all feeling like this?
I go between feeling depressed and scared and freaked out and then sometimes I just feel defeated and ready to accept whatever comes my way.
As long as it isn’t that someone in my family gets sick.
Life now is like a scary as fuck roller coaster and we are all in the fucking front row seat.
See? I’m writing this and I hate what I am writing. I feel like this is a waste of time sitting here doing this. But I’ll keep on going…
Here’s something I wonder about:
What is it with people who are making lemonade out of this ginormous global lemon? Are these people really enjoying this moment in time, or are they forcing themselves not to go mad by being productive and positive as fuck and telling everyone about it? I have a theory that the people who appear carefree and all busy are actually the people who are the closest to really losing their marbles. Why do I wish I could be more like them?
I guess now isn’t the time for me to judge what other people are doing to hang in there. Even though their sunshiney demeanors make me want to smack them kinda.
Here’s some good news. Our new kitten Ghostly-ghost turned 1 yesterday. She sure is a sweet addition to our home. Our other cat, Dali, has come to terms with her being here and they really bring happiness into our home, even now. I couldn’t get out to buy Ghost a birthday prize, but she did enjoy a trip on some catnip and lots of playtime. I think that made her happy which is good because she makes us happy.
She’s the kitty featured here on my blog cover page, standing up in her favorite tower, looking for birds in the vines that grow all over our house.
Here’s another picture of Ghost looking quite adorable right after we woke up one day last November. I love this picture:
Another good thing amidst all the epic shit is that our son and daughter-in-law are in the process of buying their first home.
Audra has been looking for the perfect place for months and I have enjoyed being consulted throughout the hunt. They have looked at bunches of homes, and have found a few they liked a lot only to lose out to other buyers.
That all changed two weeks ago with the appearance of a sweet and magical pale yellow abode with a kick-ass interior and a backyard not to be believed. It’s in an old school neighborhood of our city and I want you to know–I do believe it is the perfect home for them. They think so too, and guess what? They’re in contract and everything is moving ahead.
The other day when my husband and I were eating lunch together and discussing the house, we brought up an Italian restaurant my family has loved since I was a little girl located just a minute away from their new home. This place holds a lot of sentimental value for us. We had my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary dinner there. We also had them cater my parents’ and brother-in-law’s funeral dinners. Bill and I also talked about a bakery nearby, also a place I went to as a little girl. I got a lot of my birthday cakes there. I distinctly remember holding my dad’s hand in that bakery while taking a number for service as a giant fan cooled the place.
I told Bill–maybe our kids will have kids?!
And we can take those kids to TAT (the restaurant) and Resch’s (the bakery). I told Bill–they can look in the display cases and I can buy them cookies or doughnuts!
Bill said I can have them grab the number tickets before we stand in line.
My heart literally quivered with joy over the mere thought of it.
I realize I am way ahead of where the kids are now and truthfully I am just thrilled for them to be happy. That’s what I really want.
I would also really really really really like to help them move when the day comes and drink a glass of celebratory wine with them after on their new patio. Oh, and hug the living hell out of both of them because I miss them so much.
There is some good news left in this world gone crazy, I guess.
And lookie here…I have written quite a bit on this blog, haven’t I.
I don’t know if anyone else will find what I’ve written particularly interesting, but that’s not why I am writing for in the first place, is it.
If you read this, thank you.
I hope you’re safe and healthy and holding on.
Baby, hold on to me…whatever will be will be…
Fuck it, let’s listen to some Eddie Money, shall we? Or as my good friend Linda and I call him–