The Wall

I have hit a metaphorical wall.  Well, I am thinking of my life in a marathon runner's terms (something I am, ironically and absolutely, not).  But, don't they talk about how at a certain mileage point, everything becomes more difficult; the muscles start to protest and all that.  Yeah...I am there.  I am tired of dealing with all this. I protest, heart, mind, body, soul.  I have hit a wall.

It pains me to say that, because I have wanted this blog to stay positive, but I realized this weekend that this blog isn't for me to project some kind of happy-go-lucky-I-love-cancer attitude.  It is for me to share my feelings and get them out so I can move on.  And right now, they aren't super-positive.

It probably has something to do with experiencing some of the worst moments of the year this weekend.  A son who pours syrup all over the play kitchen, linoleum floor, and oh yeah, the carpet.  Another son who is constantly pouncing on everyone, grabbing, and shoving, and being physically in all of our faces.  I know he just wants some attention, but it's frustrating.  A daughter, who when she gets tired, could win any whining contest in the world - we're talking nails on chalkboard, people, it's that grating to my ears.  And, another daughter who has declared that this cancer stuff is something I made up and I'm just faking it to get out doing mother-stuff.  Ouch.  Well, that daughter also threw a fit of colossal proportions this weekend, which that statement was actually only one minor part of; but it is the statement that most stuck with me, as I didn't realize how much my lack of energy has affected her.  That daughter, the eldest, is in need of a lot of attention, in general, so I should have known, but this fit came after I spent an entire afternoon and evening with her and her friends (Girl Scout cookie booth, out for dinner, then to see Annie at the Sharon Lynn Wilson Center) - none of our other children present for any portion of that time.  Very frustrating.

After all that, I had to wake up on Monday morning and go get me some Chemo.  Yayyyyyyy.....not.  You know, I did want these four kids.  I wanted to stay home and raise them all. I had big plans of super-mom status.  I was looking forward to volunteering for everything.  I wanted to be at all their soccer games, and school parties.  I wanted to bake cookies, and do homework, and play games, and watch movies and have experiences together.  I am hoping we still can.  But, right now, when it's soccer game time, it's a good opportunity for me to lie down and get some of my energy back.  There's no way I'm baking any stinkin' cookies.  And, going to parties at their germ-infested schools?  My husband and mother protest, despite my attempts to go.

The doctors tell me my "numbers look good" but that I "need to take it easy".  I still have seven more weeks of Chemo to go and if I overdue it and have to miss a week, all that does is prolong the agony.  Grrrr....

The silver-lining.  If this cancer treatment stuff is a marathon, and I have hit a wall then I think what comes next is a second-wind, right?!  I just have to make it to that second-wind.  Oh second-wind, where are you? From whence will you come?  Blow this frozen world away, bring some warmer weather, and a bunch of cancer-fighting spirit for me, would you, please?  (Thank you.)