I Can't Put My Finger On It

 

Oh, wait.....maybe I can.  First, I am feeling better.  Still a bit fuzzy around the edges and trembly and like a new toddler learning to take those first rickety steps.  But better.  I'm going Thursday to my Oncologist to do a follow-up and most likely a pretty intensive chat about exactly what the helicopter happened to me.

I have my little fuzzy boys back who are a bit put out with me because apparently there were activities at playland and I don't know the schedule.  Three times a day they position themselves in the middle of the living room and stare at me as if to say "what are you doing.....it is time for water sports, or tickle time, or chase the ladies."  I'm lost and apparently no damned fun.  I think Ozzie really misses Adam at Pawsi.  Ozzie has always been a dude's dog and he misses having a guy around.  Everytime the door opens he races out to the car and wants to go somewhere.  This is not usual!  So, he is obviously wanting to go somewhere specific.

I hope once other people are not dangerous to me I can return to work.....just in time for the roller coaster to take another loop.  But I need to work for oh so many reasons....finances, mental health, social engagement, etc.  We shall see....God is driving the broken down old bus so we will see where He decides it needs to go.

Residual effects of Chemo Round 1:  Still slight neuropathy in feet, numbness in  my fingertips, lots of unfun feelings in the soft tissue areas of my person and nothing tastes lovely.  The only thing I have found that remotely satisfies are things with a heavy lemon taste.  Those are Heaven right now.  My mouth stays pretty dry so I have started squeezing a lemon into my water jug and I find that easier to drink than just plain water.  I am so grateful for the nugget ice machine Roger bought me because I get a lot of my water intake from crunching ice.  Oh, and the hair......it has fled like it owed me money.  I keep it covered mostly because it is just downright intrusive....it is just everywhere.  I could be convicted of a million crimes, my DNA is so present in the atmosphere right now.  My wig has shipped and of course it coming from..............guess where...........CHINA!  But I do plan to avail myself of the services provided by the Oncology people in NWA to see what they have that might do in a pinch.  In case I get invited to a party or something.

This weekend my heart will be in Texas where my high school is having an all-school reunion.  I love these events so much and have been so fortunate to be able to go pretty often.  I even strong-armed Roger into a couple of them.  But this year, he had told me we would go and as soon as the date was announced I should write the check for the whole shebang and we would go together.  I think this decision on his part was based largely on the fact I talked him into going to his high school reunion a while back and he enjoyed it so much he finally realized just how much mine meant to me.  I was looking forward to it.  But, this year is not our year and it isn't my year either.  Maybe next time.....I really need these people.  These people who knew me when I was practically brand new with only the future to meet.  They knew me when I was no one's wife, no one's mother.....I was just me.  And they liked me....just the way I was.  And when I am with them I am that person again.

They are people who step up and step in.  Who help out, who pray fervently together and separately for the problems of others.  They are people I want to be.  My messages overflow with prayers and offers of help and books arrive to uplift me.  Just because I am absent geographically does not not absent me from their hearts.  This matters to me.  I have a double handful of really good friends here locally and in Texas I have an army.  Along with my family here and in Kansas I know I am loved and valued and I hope to return every gesture done on my behalf either back on the giver or forward to someone else who needs it.

I hope their get-together is full of laughter and wonderful memories.  I hope someone jiggles their butt off on the dance floor in my honor (that is usually my job).  And I hope they leave that gathering with renewed friendships and refound purpose to continue the Rattler spirit that we all will carry to the ground with us.  Maroon and White Forever, my friends!  You are all loved by me.  The class of 1968 will always be my safe haven.  On to Victory!