I had a hard time sleeping last night – a lot of pain – so I went into my own bed. I had been telling my mother about the pain at night but she had never seen it. She was so upset for me this morning. She barely slept herself. This is all very hard on her.
One thing that is happening with my body that is very strange is that my fingernails are growing incredibly fast. I hate it. It reminds me that I’m sick. My fingernails don’t belong to me. I keep them very short and they grow slowly. Now, I have to cut them every couple of days. They’re not me. They’re other.
I have made a list of all the things I have to take care of now in the event that I don’t make it. I know that sounds terribly pessimistic and I hate to be that way but my primary care physician sounded so dire about my CT scan (pelvis/abdomen) and kept saying how sorry he was even though I haven’t finished all my tests. When I heard all that, I felt like I was on death’s door. So I want to tie up loose ends now. I say to myself that I should only think positively but, if I don’t plan ahead, I may not be in a position to do everything that needs to be done if the time comes.
On a lighter note, I am really loving WordPress. I am still figuring out how it works but some people have already read me. I can’t believe it. I would like to be inspiring and hopeful but all I can be is real. It feels good that others may be with me on my journey so I hope that whatever I write gives them something too.
I’m going to sign off for now to cut my damn fingernails and eat a little something. I’ll be back later today …
Here I am! Back again. So I’m by the window overlooking the tree tops. Another sunny, Spring day. I’m glad.
I’m very weak – just laying here – I’m too afraid to step on the scale. I can see the loss in my face now and my legs are too small. I haven’t even started treatment. I drink a milkshake every day but it doesn’t seem to make much of a difference. I bought vanilla, coffee, and strawberry ice cream to keep it interesting and mix in frozen bananas and peaches with the vanilla. It sounds delicious but, really, it’s a force feed.
I remember where I was a year ago – buying new sneakers in anticipation of summer runs, perfecting my chocolate cake recipe and testing out frostings – never in a million years would I have imagined this particular future. I know that’s life but we humans have the gift (or curse) of both foresight and hindsight, the ability to imagine possibilities, reimagine our pasts and reconfigure our futures. Illness strips us of control, leaving only the thought, the imaginings, with no ability to work towards those new beginnings.
You know what I want? I want to plant a very small garden. I want to grow my favorite vegetables and plant flowers for the bumblebees. I can barely make myself breakfast. But I can think and I can write. I can work and I can contribute.
In my mind, I am eight, floating on my back looking up at the sky, in my periwinkle blue swim dress. I am smelling a lilac bush that bordered our lawn and walking to the village shop to buy Wacky Packs that found their way to a treasured shoe box at the back of my closet. I am running down a hill, wind rushing, a stately Chestnut tree at the top. I am watching the snow fall. I am lying in the cool of an air conditioner, filling the space with its deep hum, on a pink and white shag.
Now, it’s time for my coffee milkshake.