“We can never know about the days to come,
But we think about them anyway, yay.”
What a bizarre, wonderful, horrific and provocative time this is for me. After a whirlwind but fun adventure in Asheville, I flew to Denver and helped pack up a huge house, running up and down two flights of stairs, hoisting boxes too heavy for me and desperately trying to find second, third and fourth winds that were not there. When the house was finally empty and clean, we piled the dogs in the truck and drove down to Phoenix…I collapsed for three days, and awoke on Monday with a whole lot of impulsive and reckless energy. After taking an advance Pilates class (what was I thinking?!?) and doing a full day of chores, errands and doggy duty, I collapsed yet again. Hard. I am finally up again, wondering how to pace myself better and live in the NOW.
Thinking about the future has made me edgy and impatient. I am experiencing small windows of what I remember as “normalcy” (before the dreaded diagnosis), and immerse myself into the feeling, willing it to stay. Then the nausea and aches return. I yearn for the day when the “normalcy” of the past year (aka malaise) will become but a faint and ever-fading memory of days best forgotten. Until then, it is probably advisable not to stare into the sun…besides, won’t that make you go blind?
I am so dreading next Monday, my final chemo infusion. I know I should be jubilant, but not so. So, I am going to try to do a little, rest a little, do a little more, and maybe go to about a million movies between now and then to distract my racing, turbulent brain. The sun will set soon enough…with or without my help. Love and light…
Nov. 6, 2013
Judy Richter 