Normal? Almost

Well, it's the end of a long day of acting normal. Getting up and doing stuff, like going to the bank and getting gas. Picking up Bennett at school all by myself was the big feat for the day. Bennett asked to look at my belly because she thinks I am all healed. I keep telling her that I am working on it as best I can.

I have to say it's heartbreaking every time I say it. I have a very good feeling about the new chemo drugs, so I am no too focussed on dying these days. It might be that I am just trying my damnedest to fully engage in the world and that means living - and not dying.

I have an appointment with Dr B on Friday, so I might be back to worrying about dying then. He is always such a bummer. I made a pact with myself that I am going to tell him that I totally understand my diagnosis and he does not need to beat me with it every time I see him. I want us to act like life saving partners and not like he expects me to croak at any moment and I really feel pretty good. The disparity of those two things is what gets me - he is supposed to be the expert and he is telling me something completely bizarre.

I am babbling. It took forever to get B to go to sleep. I am exhausted from acting normal and need to go to sleep. The world around me is very quiet - a little snow is falling. They are predicting another big storm. I am pretty sure it's not going to amount to much. I really want a big storm. There is a big part of me that wants the rest of the world to be as inconvenienced as I am. To have to stop and figure out how to manage something so big and dangerous as a blizzard and its aftermath. That is what I want- for everyone to have to look around and say "what the hell do I do now?" Because that is what I do every single day.