This weekend I finally “woke up” and rejoined the real world.
I’d been wondering why people were pestering me about Thanksgiving plans, but apparently, it’s only a couple weeks away. I guess I should get around to figuring out what’s going on.
As far as the world goes, I’m still back on Labor Day weekend, the first time I was admitted for my pneumonia.
I'm still back on that day, X's first soccer practice, that I stood up to teach foot skills only to sit down after one child afraid I'd have trouble breathing and scare all the kids.
That's when I knew something was really wrong.
Yes, maybe this seems like ions ago to the rest of you, but time does change when you’re dealing with a catastrophe.
I’m sure it’s some sort of defense mechanism so you don’t realize that you’ve been suffering day in and day out for months.
I did have a relatively rowdy weekend, but all that really means is I left my house.
It does not mean what it used to: that I pre-partied with my friends, we made it to the club at midnight and home at 7am after having collected ten different numbers just to up my self esteem and confirm that I'm hot.
No, I didn't go to dinner theatre with drag queens that give lap dances or watch a gang fight in the street.
I'm glad I got those days out of my system.
Yes, I did leave my house and I did it without ever having to use my oxygen.
I’m not quite back to playing basketball with Xander (and believe me I tried), but I did walk the half mile back and forth from my parent’s house. I also tried to go for a walk in the woods, but I only made it through Xander’s fort, then to his house, which has a special sitting area just for me, but not to his blueberry patch.
It is really the little things you learn to love.
I also managed to brave a shopping trip with Jon that included TJ Maxx.
I hadn’t been to TJ Maxx in years and it’s like the store threw up all over itself.
Everywhere you look there is another thing, so many things, that nobody really needs.
We’re definitely a culture addicted to things.
I’ve had my desire for all these “things” beaten out of me by months begging to be able to breathe.
On that note, Let’s congratulate Dana Farber for a job well done. They have the highest survival rate one year post allo-mismatched stem cell transplantation than any other facility in the country that does over 150 of these yearly.
I always get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I read these things and think, “What?! You mean I could have died?!”
Yes, so I do have a little bit of denial, especially when after all these months I’ve had friends call and exclaim, “WHEW! You’re alive!”
Yes ma’am, I am, and I’m making plans.
And of course, let’s thank Dartmouth for keeping me alive and with my family.
After a successful weekend that included leaving my house to shop and go to a friend’s “open house” for drinks, I was still able to get up in the morning to chill with Xander.
Unfortunately, X doesn’t realize that though he’s decided I’m well enough to resume every normal activity that makes him happy, I’m probably not.
That doesn’t stop him from wondering why he doesn’t automatically have playdates on the weekend.
I don’t know how to explain it to him that I’ve been too sick to make advance plans.
We did manage to get some friend time in before Brynn and Nic came over, and whoa, did I ever let the monsters loose when I said it was plan making time.
We’re all about “traditions,” and if I was healthy, Nic and I would probably have some “tradition” we had to do once a month, but early December is a yankee candle/Christmas Tree Shoppe trip alongside Brynn's birthday.
Now, I’ve added an outing to NYC.
Yes, I’m taking the girls out for a weekend of rowdiness, even though Nicole thinks a “penthouse party” includes naked people from the magazine (it doesn’t, a penthouse is a sweet apartment on the top floor of a building, usually gorgeous), and that Brynn needs a lesson on “How to Say Yes to you” (as opposed to everybody else like so many do).
We started small in plan making, where they were ready to break out the video camera and resume our hibernation activities from last year, but then they quickly moved on to game nights on Saturdays and beyond.
As hard as it is to listen to what my friends do in my absence, it’s great to still be invited, even if it’s one of those days there is no way in hell I’’m getting out of my bed.
It's even better when I realize they've been waiting patiently so I can rejoin them.
I’m finally feeling relatively content with the state of my body, and so far, no signs of cancer’s return. It’s a big turn around from being unable to read the paper or not having the energy to sit at the computer to type, but I think I’m headed down the right path.