In A Blur

There are three weeks every year that go by in a blur: the week school starts, the week school ends, and the week before we break for Christmas. Will I get all my cute projects done? Will I get enough money from the parents for the pizza party? Will I remember to get little gifts for everyone and not leave anyone slighted? And what about January? Now I have to get everything ready for January!

This year I just skipped the staff party. But then, this year we're not even celebrating Christmas. Everything is staying in the attic. No tree, no lights, none of my holiday sweaters. We're skipping Christmas because you have never liked it and maybe it's your last one. We're doing it just the way you want it. You dislike it so much, I've coined a new name for you: Scrinch.

Tuesday our neighbors came for dinner because she was going to help me do the paperwork for the cancer policy I have for us. We will get a good amount of money back from them. It will pay for our adventures. It is a very thin silver lining to this cancer cloud. We had a great time. Jim just married her after losing his live-in to a sudden heart attack six weeks after you had your triple bypass. This new wife is a friendly, joyous breath of fresh air, and she has a good heart. We had a delightful time together and barely got started on the paperwork. I hope you see how much these times liven you up. Maybe you'll want to do it more often.

Wednesday was my first time in a cancer support group. It was nice, different, much like other groups I've been in, like twelve-steps. You're glad to find a group of people with the same experience but you're all sorry you have to be there together. They foretell my future. I wondered what I'd be like when I'm an 'old timer'. How long will my 'old-timer' days last? I have to be accountable to them; it's why I had my interview on Monday. I have to let them know when I won't be at the weekly meeting. I had kind of wanted the anonymity of a drop-in group but you wanted to go on Wednesdays. But somehow it made us feel we could make our reservations to fly to Spokane on Christmas. We did it. We took the plunge. Now we're committed.

Today you had chemo again. You were fine. You drove yourself, you came home, you wanted to go for a bike ride (but we didn't), then you rested. But now you have a rash, a big pimply rash growing up your chest and on your neck. The steroid messed with your energy and you feel skittish, unable to focus, and you took an Ambien and are trying to sleep in the middle bedroom. A rash? What is it? Is it from chemo? Is it an interaction? Are you allergic? Will it lead to something more serious?