Ball of nerves

Today I feel quite wound up. A ball of nerves. Emotional.

Today I go visit the oncologist, and I’m already feeling nervous. It will be little surprise, whatever the latest tests say. The ball in my abdomen is hard and growing. Clearly it’s more cancer, or inflammation from more cancer. I can feel it growing all over my body in little balls.

Last night I had a dream. In this  dream, I was laying downstairs in my bed, as ever, thinking about getting up. And Zsolt was calling me from away to rise and shine. So I did – rose and put on my clothes, including the bathrobe I find myself in too often. And I drag myself up the  stairs, and as I finally reach the kitchen, there is my whole family with a birthday cake just for me. Dad, as per his goofy self, starts trying to sing his own unique version of Happy Birthday, but I put both hands on the counter and insist upon the classic version. The cake is strawberry short cake. Now, all of a sudden, my golden retriever shows up in the kitchen too! She’s so happy to see me. I bend down to give her a good petting behind her lovely ears, and she’s still just giddy with excitement that I’m there – as if I had been away for a long time. Then I wake up and remember she died many years ago, and it is way too early for my birthday.

To see her and stroke her was wonderful. I wish I could see her again. Maybe I will one day? Depends on what happens after it happens. Could be anything.

Anyhow, now I’m here in bed writing this post. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good cry. Feels like I’m due for one soon. Then again, as Zsolt says, today isn’t the end of the world. But still, crying is allowed.

The rain

It’s pouring cold rain here in Ottawa. That’s the forecast for the entire week, however next week on the Tuesday is going to hit 20 degrees, and I couldn’t be more pleased.  I’ll have to plan something nice on Tuesday (along with the scheduled brain MRI).

But today is grey and rainy. Cold too. However, that didn’t stop me from bundling up, grabbing my hot water bottle, and going to go sit in my new used car. Zsolt didn’t get that – why just sit in the car? It’s hard to explain. Essentially, I’m trying to get used to it. I want the car to feel like a friend, and we havn’t quite reached that level yet.

Resting in the passenger side of the car, I reclined the chair and tucked the hot water bottle into my coat – zipping it snug against me. Then I relaxed.

Everything was grey, and everything was wet, with streams of water running down the windshield. I found myself staring at my neighbour’s shutters, contemplating their paint choices, until my eyes gave that up and closed. Then it really became interesting.

When it rains in my mind, it’s a uniform dumping of water. But listening as the drops hit the body of the small car, I realized that the rain was performing a sweeping symphony. Not as we’re used to it with an orchestra of violins and drums and horns . . . but with gentle tappings, metallic tings, charging waves, and constant droplets. It didn’t remain the same for more than ten or fifteen seconds before merging into some new, wet texture of noise and pressure against the car.

I lay inside, wrapped in this cold wetness yet untouched by the water, and was grateful for my hot water bottle. (Then again, when am I ever not grateful for that bottle?)

A few more degrees warmer, and maybe the car will become my new place for naps. I find it soothing to rest and listen to the rain. It really has so much to say.


Productivity must be a mental muscle, one that I am failing to exercise…because it’s becoming more difficult to get going lately. Unless I have a firm appointment or commitment, I just lay here in the bed and stare at the ceiling. It’s really very ridiculous. There are things that could be done. Heck, this very second I see a pile of clothes that could be sorted, dishes that could be put away, a book I might find interesting, and a package that must be sent.

But that’s all I’m doing. Watching it all. There is an expression about boredom. Something about it being a luxury of those who are spoiled. Well I don’t know about that. Feels more like a curse in some sense. Sometimes it’s a luxury after a hard day. Right now it’s like a heavy blanket I can’t push off. And it’s not the same as rest.

Mind you, it might have more to do with mood, apathy, or something, rather than boredom. Maybe it’s not about being purposeless…just instead…stuck in myself. I keep thinking “you are wasting the days when you feel well! How many will you get, and how many will you regret?” But even that gets me no where.

Just writing this is probably enough; a tiny little flex in that mental muscle.