Tuesday, December 15, 2009

It's Oh So Quiet

Wait a minute. What's that sound?


OK, except for the freezer making ice cubes and the dog sighing, all I hear is...nothing. Typing. Second hand tick tocking. No TV, no toddler dumping toy trains on the living room floor, no dishwasher running, no kitties meowing their demands (in, out, in, food, out, repeat). It's weird. And wonderful.

Max is back at work full time this week, and today is a playschool with Grandpa then off to the nanny share day for Samson. I have an hour and a half until my date at the gym, and I don't think I've had this much alone time since before Sept 21st. Sure, I've lots to actually do, but no distractions. Nothing higher on the priority list, like changing diapers or playing fire truck or cooking a deliciously lavish and butter laden breakfast with my combo husband-live in chef.

Feels nice. Real nice.

Sunday, December 06, 2009

What Cancer?

So much celebrating lately! Between holidays, the end of radiation, and the general feeling of goodwill that seems to follow me wherever I go, it's getting easier and easier to push the tumor's invisible twin out of my head. Even thought the tumor is gone, the fact that it ever existed has been impossible to forget, or rather, impossible not to think about nearly every second of every day. There's always something to remind me, but here are the main culprits:

1. Still not allowed to drive. Kind of makes me feel like a prisoner, even though I have wonderful Max, awesome family, and terrific friends acting as my collective chauffeur.

2. Hair still falling out, and generally looking like ass. I found a nice looking salon on Yelp that I intend to try now that radiation is over, but every time I look in a mirror, I get a little sad.

3. Pretty much all of my skin hurts, pretty much all of the time. We can thank Tarceva for that, one of the trial drugs I'm taking through UCSF. Totally worth it, and I'm thankful for the trial and the opportunity to double up the chemo on this sonofabitch, but ow. In lots of inconvenient places, like my hands and ears.

4. The overwhelming emotion attached to this situation makes my far away friends seem so, so much farther away. Not emotionally, because every single friend (plus some new ones, some old ones, and many that I didn't even know about) has rallied for me and continues to be part of my physical and mental armor, but physically, I miss the hugs and the random shopping trips to Target.

Of course, I am very good at looking forward to upcoming fun stuff. I have a ridiculously long list of events and trips to plan and get super excited about in the next few months--I'll expand in another post, one that won't take three weeks to write--and that helps me forget as well.

Also, I had my first cocktail in 4 months this weekend. Bloody Marys rule!