Inching Our Way Back

A few random things:

I seems to be in process of unwinding myself. The cancer meds made me gradually sicker and sicker, now I am getting better very gradually. I can have a pretty normal day now, as long as I adhere to my toddler two hour nap in the middle of the day. Without the nap, I can't make it through the evening still speaking in coherent sentence. With the nap, I spend at least an hour afterwards in a state of waking up that the kids nicely refer to as "The Dragon Lady".

The other day Paul and I were in in the grocery store just to get one thing. I suggested that since we were there, we should pick up a couple of other things we needed. Paul responded with an enthusiastic, "That's a great idea!" Huh? Then he explained that it was only in the last month or so that I have had any ideas about anything. That is why he was so happy to hear one. Kind of sad, but I guess it is progress.

My tan lines right now are cracking me up. Every time I look in the mirror, I chuckle. The v neck tan of my swimming suit is the exact color of my radiation tan that cuts across my right boob. This is a stark contract to my lily white, never seen the sun left side. This is apparently a permanent condition. At least it's funny.

My hair continues to confound and amaze me. First, confound because having curly hair after a lifetime of perfectly straight is just confusing. Second, amaze because all of my hair has returned as if it was never gone. My eyebrows are bushy, my arm hair has to be trimmed and the shock of regularly having to shave my legs again is starting to set it (but sometimes I still forget).

My messed up arm pit continues to be sweat free. Do you know how long a stick on deodorant lasts when you only use it on one pit?

I am still battling my way through menopause. I am hopeful that this is going to be the last time. I am cranky and irritable at random times instead of being on a predictable schedule as I was before. Apparently, I was very regular before because yesterday Andrew commented that he thought it should be brownie day soon. Brownie day used to be once a month when the hormone monster reared its head. If I baked brownies now every time that happened, we would all gain 100 pounds.

I put away all of my hats and scarves the other day. I have been looking at them in my closet for months thinking it was time to get them out of there. I became instantly nauseous when I touched them. Afterwards, I cried. I cried because of the memory associated with them. I cried because I put those things in a box, and put them away but there is a small, secret terror in my heart that I will have to use them again. And I sooooo do not want to have to do that.

Strangely about the same time I was crying about my hats, I realized that I now feel like I can handle any challenge. Paul mentioned some terrible thing that could happen and all I could think was we handled the cancer, we could handle that.

"But do not forget this one thing dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day." 2 Peter 3:8