On Thursday and Friday I woke up, did some chores, and felt so incredibly powerful to be able to... load and unload the dishwasher. Unpack boxes from the move. Make breakfast. Although I'm grateful that my partner was able and willing to handle pretty much everything during heavy treatment, I can't tell you how useless I felt. Going from a rewarding, high-pressure job to my new job, "Trying not to throw up and sleeping all day", was... well, at least I was fully qualified.
Then I hopped in the car and we went to radiation. Yesterday's radiation room music was hilarious. Michael Buble's cover of the Spiderman theme song? Honestly? Zapped by a radioactive field, she becomes... ridiculously unlucky cancer woman!
And then, kayaking. Gliding over green water. Hiking in a beautiful arboretum. Having a picnic. The ocean. Late-night thunderstorms. Board games and friends. Insanely awesome nature experiences. Little baby orioles.
Most of me is able to enjoy these things, but a tiny part of me is always worried, thinking, I love this place. I want to stay. It's a strange and exhausting kind of double vision.
We drove home and a totally rocking music party occurred. I'm not any better at car dancing despite practice. But when I got home, I found that a friend had sent me a story about a woman who died of metastatic breast cancer five years after she was initially diagnosed with a less-serious cancer than mine. I had a moment.
Then I cuddled into bed, and woke up next to someone who I love so much. Who makes me laugh, and gives me hope. I got up. Lather, rinse, repeat.
