I feel almost guilty posting today. There isn't really anything to report. Pat assures me that not having anything to report, is in fact, something to report. I feel really good and it's been 36 hours of feeling good. Yay, I am crossing my fingers it stays this way for a lot longer than 36 hours.
We are still cleaning like mad. I should say my contribution is limited; Pat is madly vacuuming, Mary is at the shops getting a ton of supplies for us. I am not sure about how I feel about going to the grocery store at this point and Pat is only one person. She does so much. I guess this is what everyone talks about asking for help. And it's wonderful to have Mary here to help so much. Not to mention everyone else who helps us every week with Bennett, chemo, mental health check-ins. It's all so good.
Bennett is watching Dora and I am posting after we feasted on chicken soup sent from a cancer survivor friend. Fantastic to eat some soup made by someone who fought such a tough fight and is living fully. It's like liquid life.
We moved, I use "we" loosely, furniture into the new bedroom this morning. Now I have a lovely place to go when I need time to myself. We are billing the room as anyone can sleep there, but I secretly believe it's my room. Light and bright, filled with the love put into it by everyone who helped build and paint. The only problem with that room is it makes me feel like every other room in the house needs to be gutted and redone. Ridiculous considering I don't really have the energy to do the laundry.
Yes, I am still tired after all the rest I've had. I think it's just going to be my state for awhile. It's a weird kind of tired, not sleepy, not really fatigue, just moving slow and when I do I want to sit down. I am beginning to think it's a component of fear, but I am not sure. Moving too quickly might make me panicky? I don't know. I mostly just feel like napping and watching Top Chef. Not really the way to live this precious life. So I lay down a little here and there and I keep the Top Chef for before bed. I think I am sending Mary home addicted. Whoops.
Still looking toward my chemo on Wednesday and making lots of WBC until then. I love all the thoughts, crossed fingers and prayers coming my way. I can feel them, I really can.
You telling of how the new room makes you "feel like every other room in the house needs to be gutted and redone" reminds me of an old Hindu parable about a man who brings home a precious gem and puts it on his mantle, which makes him redo the mantle, which makes him redo the room, which makes him redo the house, which makes him redo the garden and his neighborhood and his village.... I hope the room is yet another good healing thing, like chicken soup and the women in your life that are all taking such good care of you right now.
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