Today, I woke up to my crying baby girl... Who's not a baby anymore because she had to "get big" and start pre-school so her mother could go to chemotherapy.
I had my chemo bag packed: iPad- check! Medical file - check! Chemo quilt - check! All I needed to do this morning was pack 5 lunches for my five and get everything in a row before leaving the house at 7 am... And write notes to the 3 big kid's teachers about today's schedule. And get the kids breakfast. And clean up after our bleeping dog. And pack ice to prevent the mouth sores. And get myself some breakfast. And brush my teeth. And... We ran out of time and we left later than we should have. And, no, I didn't eat breakfast. Yes, I brushed my teeth!
Right now, I'm sitting on a hospital bed waiting. I hurried out. I felt terrible about the rush and yet, here I sit waiting after moving through the elbows and the nerves of all the other cancer patients. Waiting for my drugs to arrive. At least I have a nice bed. Alone with my DH. Could've been a romantic date, I guess, if not for... Ya know, the chemo, the stress, the rush, leaving my kids at that early hour, and honestly feeling a little bit sorry for myself. I hate feeling teary-eyed and weepy - and guilty for feeling it because I'm so freaking blessed and lucky to be here on this earth and all that.
I'm not brave and I'm not so cool today guys.... The day is young, who knows?