April 14: I talked Ron into us going to church last night. It was a terrific idea on paper. I needed a pick me up as I had landed myself in a very foul mood earlier in the day. The reality of what had happened had finally sank in. Whether I had been in a bit of denial or whether I was just riding the energy of the fast paced week eludes me, but whatever it was came to a quick halt Saturday morning and I was fully aware of the current circumstances. I thought a visit to church would provide the swift kick in the hiney I very much needed. A reminder of God's provision and grace. Well, I accomplished reclaiming that reminder, but also found myself very overwhelmed. That's one of my downfalls, I try to rush through the moment. Get this nastiness behind me, be better than I am, heal quicker than the body allows. I wanted to be back in the normalcy of the life of 10 days ago. If I think I'm well, I'm well. I'm also an idiot. I'm not well. Last night was a quick reminder of God's provision, but also a dose of reality that I am walking around life with a PICC line, a whole in my side from where a drain once thrived, and stitches up the front of Boob 2.2, and I'm tired. Very tired. I had gotten rid of Tired back in December. Kicked to to the curb. Well it must have just been lurking next door waiting for an opening. Tired likes me. I dislike tired.
Speaking of the PICC line- because I'm infusing 7 hours of antibiotics in across my day, I find myself performing said infusions in the most unlikely places. Sitting watching a play or more strangely in the car on the way to church. Ron and I had a chuckle when he parked the car, got out, turned to look back in to ensure the doors were locked and noticed the front seat looked very much like a drug cartel's haven. "RON! If we got pulled over by the cops, we would have a very difficult time explaining all the syringes and lines strewn across the car." They certainly know how to kink a day. Ron starts them when he firsts wakes up to allow me a few more minutes of snooze. Once the first one finishes, he hooks up the second and then I finish everything out with flushes and such 3 hours later. Well today, I was eager to get up and get my shower to get the day started. Got to the bedroom, gathered my supplies, called Ron to bring the Press and Seal and tape to wrap my arm (it can't get wet) only to remember I still had an antibiotic infusing and I can' shower while it's infusing. So my shower had to be delayed until 11 this morning. And here lies my dilemma of how in the world do I get this to function in a way to where I can go back to work? And I still haven't allowed myself to drive. I'm terrified of driving. I don't want to hold arm adjacent to 2.2 up on a steering wheel for a 35 minute commute. And a seat belt can only go so many places. And walk around the office with a pump? I'd like to think I am bigger than all of this and it can be done, but I'm struggling finding a way to fit a 3 hour infusion, a shower and getting dressed, and a 35 minute commute in to the morning, then a work day including a 45 minute infusion/flush followed by a 35 minute commute home, dinner, and a 3 hour infusion into a 12 hour awake day where I still function and produce anything worthy of calling it a result. So instead I'm working at home next week with the exception of the two followup appointments I have. I tend to get more accomplished at home anyway and since I have crazy deadlines coming up, maybe it's a win win. But I admit I feel defeated in that. I want to be able to juggle it all with flying colors. I want to be THAT woman. Isn't it funny how we are the very first person to call ourselves inadequate? God needs to kick me around a little bit more to remind me he chose/allowed this path and I am to do my best. That's it. Just my best. Well my best is here at home in my pajamas working weird hours around weird infusions and laughing at the value of Press and Seal when it comes to keeping a line dry. Score!
It's my birthday. I called my mom last night to ask her what she was doing this very moment at 8:05 pm 38 years (25) ago on the evening before I arrived. "Drinking Castor Oil." (Sorry, Mom!) I think I will take stitches over castor oil. I'm to arrive at 2 pm today (38 years ago). I plan to eat cake at 2 pm. However, it's not lost on me that I should send my mom the cake. She did all the hard work. I just gurgled and cooed. Well, not quite- we had a very rough go at it at my birth with surgeries and near death for mother and child alike. That's how mom and I do things....with a big ole bang! Peas in a Pod she and I. It's not lost on me that we both at this very minute are walking around with central lines (mine a Picc, hers a port). We both have daily (her's weekly) infusions. And just like so many of you say of me, she is the most positive person I have ever met when it comes to her perspective of her health. I let my positivity wax and wane a bit more than she (yesterday is a testament to that). And no matter how crazy her world becomes, she is still more worried about me than herself. That's an amazing mom. She may fall head first into my coffee table while caring for me (previous posts last Fall), but she moves herself right into my spare bedroom and cares for me all the same. And she does provide a good bit of laughter. Thanks, mom, for birthing me. Thanks for giving up six weeks of your life last Fall all for little ole pitiful me and the new Impostors. Thanks for sitting with Ron while I was spelling out I-M-P-L-A-N-T in a drug induced stupor in the OR waiting room a week ago. But more so thanks for reminding me to keep my head high in the midst of chaos. That bit of advice has served me well. And more than anything, thanks for trudging through it all with me. Two boobs in a pod!
Happy Birthday, Sally.
Happy BIRTHday, Mom!
(I will eat a slice in your honor, it's the least I can do).
