Warning: Busy Day Ahead (Or Not)

There is so much to be done today, my head is spinning.   Ever have one of those days, where your "to do" list threatens to take over your entire life and never, ever seems to end?

Alas, though, it is highly unlikely that even a quarter of this is going to get done.  We've been in Pittsburgh all weekend -- The Peanut and the rest of the family desperately needed a little time away to vacate all the craziness that is our life these days, and to get away from the chemo doldrums.  So I pushed myself beyond what was probably wise so that everyone could have fun at the Pittsburgh Zoo and the Carnegie Art and Natural History Museums.

I keep forgetting that my usual push through and get it done mentality doesn't work in my new post-chemo reality.  Ugh.  My type-A brain is apparently refusing to allow that to be true, but my chemo-riddled body is putting up a seriously resistant fight.

We had a lot of fun, something I needed desperately given how mentally draining this breast cancer fight has been.  The rest of the family needed it, too, for a lot the same reasons -- this has been really tough on all of us for weeks and weeks, and we are worn to a frazzle from it (somehow, you don't realize that until you get away from it for a little while).

But there was a steep cost in terms of my ability to do much of anything.

What can get done will be done today, and that is just going to have to be enough.  That's all there is to it.

My third round of chemo is tomorrow.  Today needs to be mostly restful for that reason, so the things that can be tabled may just have to wait until next week.


This will be my third chemo treatment, with only one more to go if my bloodwork comes back good in the morning and my oncologist is satisfied with where things are.  Let's all hope that is the case, because I could really use some good news with all of this and a finish line for chemo in sight by the end of July.  (Radiation is to come after that, but a start date hasn't yet been scheduled, since the radiation from the chemo needs to dissipate before they can even begin anything.  It's a marathon, not a sprint, as I am fond of reminding everyone in the house.)

All this to say:  if you see a woman with very little hair pulling out the few nubbins that remain, looking incredibly frustrated and feeling like she is running around in circles?  It is probably me.

Say it with me...one day at a time...and please pass the chocolate.

(Photo via id-iom.  Love this piece of artwork -- so clever and well done!)