Ugh. Sundays.
I know a lot of people get a case of the Mondays. But for me… It’s Sundays. Especially if we don’t make it to church. I’m just kind of a crabby dabby.
The boys are generally at each others’ throats by this point on Sunday. Both literally and figuratively. In fact, as I type this, I’ve had to ask the Littlest to relinquish his brother from a headlock, twice. And I’ve already determined that baths will start promptly at 6:45 tonight. Because I think we all just need a little break from one another.
The house is well “lived-in” by late Sunday afternoon. And there’s no purpose in trying to put it back together yet at this stage. This, I’ve learned.
And the big truth as of late… I hate radiation. Okay. That’s not really fair. Radiation itself, doesn’t deserve the bad rap. The NebMed smiling faces are lovely — from Kim to Vicki to Craig to Stephen to Angela to Jessi, and of course, Dr. Wahl — the peeps are grand. In fact, I know I will miss them… Because they aren’t just grand… They are kind and funny and compassionate. So it’s not he people or the time commitment. Because it’s only a half hour each day. But it’s just. Almost. The end. And I am getting restless. Antsy. Over it.
Remember those couple of weeks I had post surgery where I had regular energy and wasn’t doing any protocols? Remember… I felt normal? And while I know that will be here again soon. With just 20 treatments left, I only have 27 days until I can put this part behind me. And so that should make me blissfully happy. But instead it has me wanting to wish it away. It has me wanting to just. Get. Through. It. Now.
And so, I’m a little worn. My edges are getting frayed. I’m a little over it. I’m tired again, this time from the rads. I’ve got this awful hanging-around cough keeping me up at night. And I’m realizing that May 1st marks almost 8 full months of doing cancer treatment.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want life to be over. I just wanna have a little tantrum where I lay on the ground like my children do when something doesn’t go their way.
And then, I’ll get up off the floor {or off my blog, as it were}, dust off my knees, and get back to Positive Town.
I am very very overjoyed that I’ve come this far. I am thrilled that my prognosis is so positive. I am overwhelmed by all of the great experiences I’ve had even through “the storm”. And I am ever thankful for Nebraska Medicine, my family, my friends, and goodness. And I am definitely thankful to have the hardest parts of treatment behind me.
But. I’m ready to move forward. To be without a daily appointment. To start to figure out what the next part of my life looks like. And to hopefully, enjoy the summer with few bumps in the road.
It was bound to happen at some point, right? Like every political campaign, I was bound to go negative… If just for today.
So, for the next 27 days, I will just imagine myself where I am longing to be… On the beach… With my toes in the sand… Celebrating the second chance I’ve been given. And starting to love on Sundays again.
