May it be worthwhile

After a while of simply not writing things down, I guess it just becomes easier to stop altogether. That’s what I’ve been doing lately – stopping all together. It started just after that post I posted (oh man, ugly wording) about the blood and the hospital and the lung and yada yada yada.

Meatballs

I just stopped with the posts. This will happen sometimes. Often it’s because I’m out having an awesome time in the world. But sometimes it’s because I just don’t want to share.

All this being said, it’s been a trip.

Life has gone all pin ball machine lately, and I’m that metal ball pinging from paddle to paddle. Sometimes I shoot up in a happy moment, other times I roll down towards that game-over pit and not a paddle can save me . . .

That’s really dramatic language. When I started with that pinball metaphor, I actually thought it would be more fun.

Life has been like a plate of spaghetti. I’m the meat ball on top, sinking into the marinara sauce and wet, warm noodles . . . and the Parmesan cheese, with that pinch of salt and sprinkle of pepper . . . and the fork going in there with the spoon, wrapping all the goodness together . . .

Actually no. Life hasn’t been like a meatball on a plate of spaghetti. I’m just seriously hungry. Like SERIOUSLY hungry.

Life has been like this: it’s has been busy. After that trip to the hospital, a few different things happen:

  • My oncologist, Dr Canada, ordered a biopsy – meaning a tube-down-the-throat-into-the-lungs biopsy.
  • Then, following that, radiation was ordered – meaning shoot radiation at your lungs for two weeks every evening after work.
  • Then, following that the side effects kicked in – meaning don’t eat because you can’t and lose 10 pounds for swim suit season…except it’s winter and we all just want to indulge in cookies and chocolate. At least, I do. Stuffing too. And meat pie. And pretty much everything right about now. Just today I had my first solid food in a week. I chewed that olive about 40 times before swallowing.
  • I missed work, and worried.
  • Biopsy results came back. Interesting stuff. More another day.

Other things happened too!

  • Zsolt became CANADIAN.

I was going to throw him a party like this: Everyone would come over wearing red & white. We’d be decked out in Canadiana. He, being the guest of honour, would name the best Canadian outfit. We’d have a map of Canada and people would be blind folded, and would need to ‘pin the capital on the country’. There would be a table filled with Canadian themed food from Beaver tales to maple syrup to a veggie platter (because you need something healthy) to maple cake to Canadian beer, etc. And we’d all give Zsolt our best advice on how to be Canadian.

None of that happened, except in my head. Maybe it will, probably it won’t. Unfortunately the radiation side effects were stronger than anticipated, and we cancelled the party. Party or not, the man is still CANADIAN. And it’s still really surreal.

More things!

  • Refugees began to arrive in Canada! This makes me really happy to watch in the news. They’ve been going through a nightmare. Even though the memories will of course follow them, they are here. They are in a new home, and we want them to feel as safe as possible.
  • We decorated our apartment. Finally, after months of the pictures hanging around and the freezer being in the middle of the floor, we have put everything away and made this new place feel more like home.
  • Work! It went well.
  • I went and bought some clothes. Somehow, in between the physical phases of treatment, my mother and I went to the shop and I picked up some clothes for work. The sale rack was good to me. I no longer need to shop for another 1.5 years. ­
  • My family has been awesome-incredible-amazing-loving-supporting and more. Zsolt and I have been so touched.

 

This is what I need to remember going into 2016. It is probably not going to be a bed of roses, but if I’m lucky the lows will seriously be balanced, if not totally knocked aside by the highs. I need to remember what I’m fighting for. These good things need to be the center of me. It may not always been easy, but I pray it is always worthwhile.

That is all.

Goodnight.

 

Advertisements

In which I lose my mind, slightly

Hello hello hello

and

hello!

Okay, enough of that. I think I’ll do that thing where I blog and pretend no one is watching. Dance like no one’s watching – except, I’ll write. And this isn’t on some big stage. And most importantly, I’m not wearing any leotard, ballet shoes, or waving any jazz hands.

Man, work has been interesting. Like, 9-5 and beyond interesting. It really hasn’t stopped since I began. Today I made a list of all the things I’d like to do – for only one part of my job, not even the other part – and there were 80 things on that list! EIGHTY. And they’re not like ‘sharpen all the pencils in my pencil holder’ they are complex-to-organize pieces of business.

But hey, I’ve made a list. Next comes the question: which of these are going to help me reach my goals best, and also fastest? From there, I’ll prioritize. Along with: what am I am actually capable of doing at this moment?! And what needs to be done first, so that other things can be done afterwards?

You know what full time employment feels like? (She asks herself, because she’s meant to be writing as if no one is reading. Damn.) It feels like an adventure game. Monkey Island, with fewer monkeys, or pirates, or insult sword fights. If I want to accomplish goal A, I need to have resource B and C in my inventory – but I can only get those resources by solving puzzle Q. etc. So yes, apparently my love of adventure gaming has prepared me for being a grown up. Who would have known?

Anyhow, I love my new job. I love, love, love it. You know what I do? I do this! And I love it!

But you know what I haven’t’ loved? I haven’t loved the surging pressure headache I’ve been getting. And I haven’t loved the wheezing in my chest – caused by elements that I really don’t love. And I haven’t loved that the boxes in my apartment STILL haven’t been unpacked despite my having moved in a month ago. AND, since I’m writing to myself and am allowed to complain like no one is listening, I DON’T love the FUCKING cancer that is trying to FUCK UP my life.

Ahem.

Excuse me.

But it’s true. I am both happy and frustrated at once. When I’m at work, it all goes away. When I’m at home, and not watching the Amazing Race with my husband, I focus far too carefully upon the wheeze that has developed in my chest.  Along with the cancer cells, I think stress has simply gotten to me. And while I fully realize there are means to relieve these pressures, I can’t seem to . . . get there. You know?

Like, I should meditate. I should exercise. I should do yoga. I should go for a swim. I should eat well. I should take vitamins. I should call the hospital. I should call my health care insurance. I should brush my teeth more often. I should clean the kitchen counter. I should unpack those boxes. I should maybe start chemo. I should finish writing my next book. I should edit that podcast. I should write this article. I should finish a blog post. And oh yes, I should do the things that really, truly make me happy.

Or I could just go to bed.

Often, at this point, bed feels like the best option. Except I don’t even really love my bedroom, because we moved into a really weird, though also clean, apartment, and I’m not sure if I like it yet.

As I said, complain like no one is watching. Sorry.

Now, it’s not always like this. I do all those things on the list above quite happily (except for anything hospital related, because that does not make me happy). But I haven’t written a blog post in a long time. Partly because I’ve been tired. But also largely because I’ve started a new job, and I still don’t’ know how to navigate between my voice, my job, and my private but also public health and life story. When it comes to work, I never want to drag in the heath realities. So I don’t update my blog, because I don’t want folks noticing what’s going on when I’m not at my desk hustling to make an awesome book club.

What I probably really need to realize is that no one is watching. Like really, they’re not. And if they are, they’re not really because we all have lives that demand attention. But still, it’s been a weird challenge for me. I’ve never felt the need to censor myself before, except when I worked for the library. And frankly, that was hard even then. I feel it even more so now.

But I like writing these things out. If I’m ever going to move away from these stress-pressure reactions, it’s definitely at least in part going to be through writing them out.

So there it is. My complaining blog post. I’m a little happy, a little sad, and a little tired. I’m also really excited, totally in love, and scared out of my mind – but hey, why can’t we be many things at once?

And now I will revert to my default coping method.

Time for bed.

Goodnight.