I am up early enough to watch the sun come up. At this time of year you don’t have to make a choice on which one you want to see. In Ohio the sun is setting at about 5:30 pm. At my house the sun rises in my front living room window, and sets in my back bedroom window. Both are obstructed views, but it’s good enough. I get to see the sky change colors and if it looks particularly fantastic I can wander outside.
It’s a weird start to the new year. This is a chemo week for me but instead of my normal Wednesday, Thursday, Friday schedule I am split and doing chemo Tuesday, Wednesday & Friday. So basically I have been in bed for a few days already. I keep forgetting what day it is. My only new years tradition was to always try and do something good on New Years eve day that I wanted to be doing in the next year. It’s an old saying I heard once, something about ending the year as you want to start the new one.
My husband seemed sad all day yesterday. I hope it wasn’t because of me, but I am too drugged up to dig too deep. When the chemo drugs are in me my mind doesn’t seem to fire on all cylinders. I just really can’t think straight. I usually spend a lot of hours staring at the ceiling. I’m also in the process of upping my neuropathy medicine so I’m a little dopier than normal.
I just stopped typing because I noticed they sun is actually rising.
Not the best picture, unless you like to look at my neighbors houses, but it’s another sunrise that I am grateful to see.
WARNING From here on down this post is about to get maudlin
I’ve been thinking a lot about death lately. It’s feeling closer and closer. I am sure that’s more to do with all of the chemicals in my body sucking about my happy, but for whatever reason it hovers closer to the front of my brain. I find myself thinking things like, “I hope 2015 isn’t my last year”.
In a private post back in 2011 I said “I don’t this cancer will kill me, but I think when it comes back it will”. Now I have to work on a timeline. If I think this cancer will kill me I have to make sure my body and brain understand that it doesn’t have to be right away, we can just hold off and live with this cancer for another 25 years. That’s doable, right?
I need to get strong enough to exercise. I am missing all of the endorphins. I am missing the feeling of power and control that being strong gives me. I need to get into a pattern of muscle building that I can do even on the weak days. I think I will make it a 10 minute a day challenge for the next 30 days. Even on my worst days I should be able to do something simple for 10 minutes. Maybe not all at once, and maybe not while standing.
Well, time to move on. All of my men folk are awake now so the house will get loud and exciting.