I had hopes in the beginning of writing every day. After reading the first few months of this (after I promised myself I would not go back and read what I wrote), I couldn'e help but think how depressing it was - couldn't possibly help ANYone - and wondered if it was good for me to write every day.
A cancer diagnosis solved part of that problem for me. There are days I'm just too exhausted to do anything other than the things I need to do every day - the "one-foot-in-front-of-the-other" things that keep me from thinking any farther than the next hour.
So... I come and I go. I don't like it, but it's where I am in my life at the moment. Maybe tomorrow will be better - or next week maybe.
I feel better today than I have for quite a while (remembering that everything is relative).
I didn't feel great this morning, so I went and plunked myself on the sofa (a reclining sofa) in the den - put my feet up and my head back - and I fell asleep quickly. Sounds perfectly normal - until you understand that we are having construction at our house this week.
Downstairs, in the basement, the plumber (let's call him Dave) is breaking up the concrete floor in order to add a powder room there.
In the garage, a concrete guy (let's call him Joe), who had already broken up and removed our garage floor on Monday, was filling the garage floor area with gravel and tamping and leveling (I guess) the gravel with a machine that sounded like a helicopter was in our garage - truly. It was so loud, that Michael and I had to yell to talk in the den (the garage is on the other side of the wall where the sofa is located).
Michael left - I fell asleep - with the helicopter machine behind my head - growling and sounding like a helicopter. I probably slept close to two hours. It was likely that the silence of the helicopter-sounding machine being finished was what woke me up.
After I woke up, when I saw Michael, he looked concerned - couldn't believe I could fall asleep with that noise. He said he came and checked on me several times. I was sound asleep.
"How are you doing?," he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.
"I feel SO much better after sleeping!" I'm going to take a shower, get dressed, and get my day going. He just hugged me and told me he loves me - which I appreciate. He thinks I'm "just being brave", but I really do feel pretty good - a far cry from three hours ago. This is how it's gone - up and down in the same day - often within a couple of hours. Crazy,
This whole experience is just strange - not definable - barely describable - it just is. And what is true this minute may be entirely different an hour from now.
And once again, like ripples in a pond, this affects everyone I know and love.
Minute by minute - step by step - in faith - trusting God. That's all you can do.
A cancer diagnosis solved part of that problem for me. There are days I'm just too exhausted to do anything other than the things I need to do every day - the "one-foot-in-front-of-the-other" things that keep me from thinking any farther than the next hour.
So... I come and I go. I don't like it, but it's where I am in my life at the moment. Maybe tomorrow will be better - or next week maybe.
I feel better today than I have for quite a while (remembering that everything is relative).
I didn't feel great this morning, so I went and plunked myself on the sofa (a reclining sofa) in the den - put my feet up and my head back - and I fell asleep quickly. Sounds perfectly normal - until you understand that we are having construction at our house this week.
Downstairs, in the basement, the plumber (let's call him Dave) is breaking up the concrete floor in order to add a powder room there.
In the garage, a concrete guy (let's call him Joe), who had already broken up and removed our garage floor on Monday, was filling the garage floor area with gravel and tamping and leveling (I guess) the gravel with a machine that sounded like a helicopter was in our garage - truly. It was so loud, that Michael and I had to yell to talk in the den (the garage is on the other side of the wall where the sofa is located).
Michael left - I fell asleep - with the helicopter machine behind my head - growling and sounding like a helicopter. I probably slept close to two hours. It was likely that the silence of the helicopter-sounding machine being finished was what woke me up.
After I woke up, when I saw Michael, he looked concerned - couldn't believe I could fall asleep with that noise. He said he came and checked on me several times. I was sound asleep.
"How are you doing?," he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.
"I feel SO much better after sleeping!" I'm going to take a shower, get dressed, and get my day going. He just hugged me and told me he loves me - which I appreciate. He thinks I'm "just being brave", but I really do feel pretty good - a far cry from three hours ago. This is how it's gone - up and down in the same day - often within a couple of hours. Crazy,
This whole experience is just strange - not definable - barely describable - it just is. And what is true this minute may be entirely different an hour from now.
And once again, like ripples in a pond, this affects everyone I know and love.
Minute by minute - step by step - in faith - trusting God. That's all you can do.
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