Sunday, August 21, 2011

This is the final countdown...

One more day of relative 'normalcy'. Chemo starts tomorrow.  I MAY need to burn this after all.

I had my girl S from Indy by way of Lansing by way of Ionia was in town and I was able to see her this weekend. I realized how much I missed her, and how important it is to make sure worthwhile friendships don't fall by the wayside.  We talked about vital issues like, "should I dye my WHOLE head pink or just the top?" (her advice, TIP it; which, by the way I had brought up as an option to my hairdresser, already)  We'll see what happens at Thursday's appointment.

Let me just say that at almost 4 weeks post mastectomy, this tissue expander is STILL a pain in my bahookie, and a lot of other places as well, I'm still trying to dress around it, sleep around it and I have good days when I think it's finally getting tolerable and other days when I am cursing that I ever agreed to have it put in.  I told Hubby last night that it felt like my hot water bottle was shoved in there, and he optimistically pointed out that it must be getting better since I had changed it from my hard metal appliance analogy.  I appreciate his balancing energy to help me get through the tougher phases of this journey (and I'm not just sayin' that cuz I know he reads all my you, honey...)

(I know, I know, it is temporary, it's only temporary....repeat 1000 more times).

The chemo port has been rough to get used to as well, it's not yet a week, so, far from healed, so now I'm juggling left side pain with right side pain, lumpiness and discomfort with the added dimension of trying to figure out what to wear that won't aggravate my tissue expander OR rub against my port bump .  Today, I whacked my port bump with the metal fan while I was cleaning it -YOW - that was NOT a fun experience.  I think I will leave fan cleaning alone for a bit longer.

Add to this exhilarating one/two punch, pain and stiffness from either my untreated RA, or the fact that I haven't been moving quite as much as I should be (or a combo of the two) PLUS now I have PMS, so all this ends up making me a blubbering, teary-eyed, snot-bubble mess.

I started a venting blog on Friday that got cut short by the arrival of my aforementioned girlie friend, and I was looking back over it and realized it really wasn't even worth finishing.  So I started another, more POSITIVE one...(oops, think I lost the positive vibe around the 2nd paragraph here).

So, to bottom-line it, I think I am just feeling guilty for NOT being busy to within an inch of my life.  I had the perception that I would have all this free-time; where, in spite of some minor inconveniences along the way, I could pursue my passions, unhindered by having to go to work.  In reality, my productivity is contingent on how much weight I can lift on any given day (forget cooking in the Le Creuset, at this point-EVER!), or how much energy I have after taking a handful of pain-management medications and a shower(not much).

Thus far, in my SEVEN (7) weeks off work, I have managed to read only about 2.5 books (I'm not counting the last 2 books of the Junior Fiction books I was previewing for my son);   knit 1.85 projects (those last few i-cords are a doosy!),  spent about 4 hours in my garden (ok, in truth that number may be a tad bit higher, I lose track of time when I'm on squash bug/vine borer/japanese beetle killing sprees), and about 2 weeks straight floating about  in my swimming pool with my dog, Max.

THIS is NOT the productive, perky, peppy me I envisioned at the start of this when I was contemplating just how much time off was looming before me. It's already almost the end of August for god's sake, and I have a paltry 10 cherry tomatoes sitting on my counter.  This is the sum total of my tomato production thus far this season, from the measly 30 plants I put in the ground. Also, I must add, the tomatoes in my kitchen are actually from the volunteer vines in the compost pile and the ones growing out of the rock pile by my deck steps!

Tomatoes (in theory) and Peppers
What the cabbage is going on here?? (actually, there will most definitely be a lack of cabbage this year, I fear they are still sitting in 6-pack cells under the cucumber trellis, completely overwhelmed and lost to the world until the first killing frost.)

I guess I am not super-woman after all.  This vexes me terribly.   (I know, I have cancer, maybe time for a reality check?)  This means that instead of being the terribly efficient and abominably productive person that I wanted to be, an inordinate amount of my time is spent napping, pondering what I will ACTUALLY look like without hair and at what point I will lose it (before the Pink Arrow game or after?  Definitely by the Susan Komen walk); worrying about if I will lose my eyebrows and eyelashes as well. Also, hoping that I will lose it in other places that I currently have to take the time and energy to shave off.   Oh, and I'm catching up on season 2 of Dollhouse when my son is not around, and researching my Aang, the Last Airbender costume by watching back episodes of Avatar, when he is.

I know that in what will seem like a blink of an eye, this will all be behind me,  it's gone so fast even now, when I think back to the fact that I found that fateful lump BEFORE Memorial Day.  It's just the waiting for things to happen, and the time I've lost NOT doing something that makes me a little crazy.

Today, on technically a day of rest, I have managed to clean my dog-hair/dirt covered window fan, vacuum behind my bed and my nightstand (shudder), spray paint the old yellow nursery side table that my hubby has been using as a nightstand for the last few years in a bedroom without a lick of yellow in it.  Additionally, together, hubby and I canned 5 pints of blueberry jam, 4 QTs of refrigerator dills, 5 QTs of sweet fridge pickles, 2 cups of garlic scape pesto and a batch of ricotta cheese.  However, I think mostly it's using up nervous energy because I have NO idea if Chemo will knock a wallop in me or not.

Better to have a few jars of jam stored up just in case!

1 comment:

  1. I so understand your frustration over being "underproductive." I do this to myself as well. Take it easy; recovery is hard work, not the least because you have to work at not overdoing it. We love you!


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