Time has slowed down. Tomorrow approaches but slowly. Not that I'm taking advantage of it and getting everything in order. Instead I'm just trying to spend time with Jim and the kids. Nothing special, but some quiet time for us.
I've talked to Miles a bit. Not too much. And I've confused him. I mentioned that I'd have a procedure like last time I was in the hospital with Ian. He started talking about me having a baby. So, I have a little more work to do on the communication front.
I've compartmentalized tomorrow. I'm not worrying about cancer. I'm worrying about not being able to pick up Ian for three weeks. And you know this (23 pound) baby likes to be carried. But that's been my approach with cancer. Focusing on the foreground. Trees not forest. Today not tomorrow.
I keep thinking how many times in life have I longed, really longed, for something - an exam, a stressful work situation, a conflict, a busy few days, business travel, chemo - to be over and then it is. So, that's sort of my attitude toward the next few days. Two to four weeks of recovery compared to five months of chemo. It'll be over and on to the next thing before I know it.
My anxiety about my echo was for naught. I got some words about my MRI and am electing to wait to hear them all because I'm not sure I understood the preview. And if I did, it wasn't fantastic.
Last World Cup, I watched every match. I was home on maternity leave with Miles and it was hot out. I snuggled with this babe, neglected to make friends with the other yoga moms and watched soccer. I'm having a bit of a repeat. I've watched most of the matches and I am reintroducing Miles to soccer. I was devastated when he complained during one game about not enough scoring. How at four is he already a typical American sports fan? What have I done wrong? Obviously I have no one to blame but myself, so I blame basketball.
We are hunkering down. It's mid-afternoon. Miles is napping in my bed. Ian is napping downstairs. Jim is working on the first floor. I've tried to put things in order at work and set it aside. We've declined a dozen generous offers of dinner and company over the last few days. We have accepted delivery of many many kindness. Notes of support and encouragement, flowers and gifts, offers of meals and extra hands to help us juggle a no-lift Mom with two littles. Don't tell Miles I called him that.
Some laundry, some packing, some playing. Dinner time, bedtime scramble and then a little kicking cancer out surgery. I'm up for it.
