Today’s post is not fun, and you should probably stop before my whining really begins. I’ll have a better one next time…I have some ideas for upcoming posts.
This isn’t easy. I’m tired, and sad, and just fucking done. Cancer is a marathon, and for most of it I’ve been pretty isolated, even before my state implemented our stay-at-home order. My immune system was so compromised during the holidays and January I couldn’t see anyone even if I wanted to, and to be honest I mostly didn’t want to. I don’t want company when I’m that sick, and I have a hard time letting anyone take care of me.
Believe me, I hear about that plenty.
So today it’s nearly 70 degrees outside, I’m back at work, I mostly feel better (although it’s day 2 of my chemo cycle and the icky taste is in my mouth, which sucks AND helps me stop eating the cake I made for my family of uno on Sunday). I took two hours this afternoon to go to Walgreens and teh grocery store. Yeah, I know…but I needed to get out and the delivery I’ve used since December for groceries is (rightfully so) on strike.
It’s not that weird to wander EVERY AISLE in the grocery store for two hours and buy stupid things like face masks (the spa sort, not the PPE sort…Fresh Thyme had zero paper products or PPE, just like everyone else) and sunblock and room spray? All sorts of shit I don’t need, but I was so overwhelmed just by being OUT and seeing other humans from 6′ away, I was in no hurry to leave.
Now I’m home, work day is over after making up my extra lunch hour, and I’m about to go do dog-poop-cleanup in the back yard while I have the energy to do it. And I’ll grill the salmon and scallops I got today even though I might not be able to taste them, and make the chili I’ll start eating tomorrow night when I’m too exhausted to cook.
I’m so fucking tired of doing this alone. Cancer is a marathon that has negatively affected pretty much all of my relationships, and not it’s no one’s fault but my own because there’s so much no one can really do so I don’t have anything to ask for anyway (and the stay-at-home order now makes even visiting for company impossible). Today is a bad day in every way except physically (physical will be Friday and Saturday…this would be easier if it just all hit at once). Honestly the last few weeks have been bad emotionally, but today is worse somehow. Maybe it’s the audacity of nature being all sunny and perky and warm this afternoon. I’m contrary like that.
I just need to get through this next hour, tonight, tomorrow…and the next 4 weeks.
Because I’m 12 rounds of treatment down and only have 4 to go. Maybe by that time this isolation order will be lifted, maybe not.
I have book club tonight and can’t wait to hear what they thought of my pick (Let’s Pretend This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson), which is decidedly not for everyone but I adore every time I read it. That’ll be awesome.
I have work again. I have my furballs at home. I know it will get better. I just hate cancer for adding yet another reason why I’m difficult for relationships of any sort.
Dog poop calls. Yep, that’s what I’m ending with today…you’re welcome. Ragnar needs me to throw sticks and pick up after him, because to date I’ve failed at teaching either he or fAngus to use the toilet like civilized folk.