A Fret of One's Own

Today was a fretful day. It was supposed to be a day of luxury - Pat took B to see Aunties Liz and Julie for the afternoon. This morning was spent sleeping in and playing quiet games with B. She tried really hard to wake me up this morning, but instead spent about 45 minutes drawing in the bed next to me, gave up and went to get Pat. She woke Pat up by telling her "momo is too tired to make you coffee, time to wake up." I really must get this sleeping thing under control, I have been sleeping so much.

So I was alone all afternoon. Which sounds like a good thing. I spent some time cleaning out B's drawers (getting ready for school), put the new bed skirt on our bed, cleaned up, played Scrabble on-line, you get the picture. I also watched a lot of Mad Men. A very good show. I think the fretting started when one of my favorite characters died from cancer. That would make sense, I should think. I got through four seasons without the cancer, and then, bam!, there it was. And of course she had to die. And that seems to be what happens to people who have cancer - they die. I suppose you could turn it around and say that is what happens to people who are born - they die. We all do. It is often a comforting thought that I am just going to go through what we all have to do, that life will continue, that the world is filled with people who are going to die. At least we all have that in common.

The second part of my fret is that my back has been hurting, and that is usually how liver cancers are detected - they show up as back pain. So of course what I have been thinking (and this is since my first bought with the mystery pain in CA) is that the tumors in my liver are getting worse. Okay, how worse? Who the hell knows, and Nancy would tell me to cut it out. That I have no way of knowing anything and that the fretting, as posted previously, just gets in the way with my connecting with the world - while I am still here. For goodness sakes, you'd think that I would get it and stop fretting. But I do fret. And it's lonely scary business.