I posted last in early January after the blood work. Jolee is the lady that runs the high school where I work, and after I gave her a high five she said she'd have to wait another month before another blog was out to read. I thought "I should write more often." Several times throughout the last month I've thought I should put something on here, but
what I would post I never really narrowed down. On one hand I like venting out random thoughts and getting it all out. I seem to like this writing for all to see thing. Which is really odd, because I hated writing things in school especially if I knew someone else would read it. Humiliation galore…
On the other hand, it seems to be a cancer-y blog and sometimes I'm tired of talking about it, and I wonder if others are tired of reading about it. There are all sorts of things that are on my mind cancer and non-cancer related, but there are so many other bigger things happening in the world it seems somewhat selfish.
For the six weeks or so, life has been progressing as normal. Normal for my family looks like this…
In sweats and pjs on the couch, the mustaches are optional. (My favorite expression is Cannon… who does he think he is, Groucho Marx?) We laugh, we cry, we play, we fight, we work. We have ups and downs that are both cancer and non cancer related. Sometimes when Brent and I argue about something I think it's a good sign of normal behavior. (If you are claiming you don't really fight then you're either lying or you're not normal… your choice).
I have been thinking about death a lot lately. It's not consuming my thoughts or anything, most of my thoughts are focused on living. It sounds morbid and all I know, but I feel like I'm growing as a person. Ha! That's sounds just as cheesy as that Lego movie, but it's totally true. I used to be massively freaked out by death. My family's, mine, the word itself, possible spirits after death, all of it. There was a period of time I would wake up at night sobbing in fear of someone I loved dying. Other people grieving I was totally afraid of, and I have been convinced for the last 5 years that if I didn't think about it and didn't prepare for it, then the powers that be in the universe wouldn't let it happen. Let's call it a superstition.
I am slowly realizing (not completely) that thinking about it doesn't mean I'm inviting death. I fully believe I will be here for a very long time. My drugs are working, there are more out there, I'm golden as far as this living stuff goes. I don't think about death in terms of "when I die" but more in terms of "wow, dude, it's like out there and we're like parts of this huge thing called life man." Still scary - yes! Kind of an interesting journey - well… yes.
Wow, discussions of arguing and death. Maybe we should switch gears to happier things?
Other unrelated happier things… Max and Cannon have their own alarm clocks. Max's goes off, he gets up and gets in the shower. He's soooo Brent, Mr. Responsible. Max makes life so much easier, he's amazing. For those of you with small children you'll understand how great this is. Cannon's alarm goes off and … just keeps beeping and beeping and beeping. The first day I went in thinking he didn't hear it.
"Cannon, your alarm's going off"
"I know"
"Are you going to turn it off?"
"Do I have to?"
Keep in mind that it's still beeping. Cannon is one of a kind.
Health news - I haven't had a headache that kept me in bed and sick all day since January 1st. That is HUGE!
I have a scan on March 4th, and an appointment with Dr. Lee on the 6th to check results of the scan. Blood work will probably happen too. We'll keep moving forward and believing all is well. I'm not worried about it at this point. I'm sure there will be moments of panic between then and now, but they're rare. Things are moving along in our new normal world. We'll keep laughing (and maybe some arguing).
