It isn't as exciting as Christmas Eve that's for sure.
The past two weeks have been, um, my favorite phrase, highly variable.
I was thrilled to return to work in the middle of July. I had this moment of pure happiness at my desk on Monday. It was so nice to be there, see my friends and coworkers and feel good. That thrill has been slightly diminished by the work load creeping back in but it still feels so good to be there.
I realized as I returned to work that I felt as good as I've felt since the start of my pregnancy with Ian - November 2012. It's been eighteen months since I've had my body to myself. Pregnancy, post-partem, chemo, surgery. It is nice to have myself back - such as it is. But it was also fleeting.
We had some challenges preparing for radiation. There was some miscommunication with the doctor and some disappointment as a result. The miscommunication wasn't a big deal, but it was an unpleasant jolt. A reminder, you aren't done yet, honey. Back into anonymous waiting rooms, delays, appointments and a cadre of medical professionals scrutinizing my breasts. Oh goodie.
Unrelated and yet totally related, I have had significant amounts of joint pain. I have difficultly walking after periods of inactivity. The mornings are the worst. I can hardly move my feet. My gait resembles an eighty year old's. After a clumsy fall that resulted in actual and ego bruises, I added a new physician to my repertoire. I don't actually know what he does, but we talked about how my body is working -mechanically - and how to tackle the various kinks in the systems.
I think that was really helpful. Also a little overwhelming. Double check that it isn't some rheumatoid arthritis, then if not add physical therapy, add joint supplement, ensure five days a week of exercise, wear a sleeve for the lymphademea. (In my head, I added... Plus radiation five days a week, plus working, plus my life and two young kids).
Somewhere in my draft last night I fell asleep. So, now it is actually the Christmas of radiation. It was a bit funny if I can laugh at myself and the ridiculousness of it.
I had a work offsite all day. Fortunately, it was in Georgetown. I slipped out of my meetings and over to the hospital midday. Radiation wasn't awful. Just a few minutes too long in an uncomfortable position, immodestly undressed in a room full of people. But because it was the first session, the radiation techs outlined the fields of radiation. And by that I mean, in marker all over my chest, side, armpit and neck. And then I got to go back to work. Still covered in traces of marker. This is how I know I'm growing and evolving. A year ago, this would have be untenable. Now, I tried to rub it off and then I got dressed and went back to work. What can you do but laugh. It couldn't have been that bad because Miles didn't remark about it when I got home from work - and he is exacting.
Speaking of the boys, Ian this precious sweet thing vexes me. He calls me dada. I say mama. He says dada. How could he know how to so effectively provoke me at such a young age?
And reporting back on a small step, Miles and I have spent in the past two Saturday mornings in the basement of a neighborhood church packaging groceries for delivery to families in need in DC.
