May 2: So thankful

I had a busy weekend. It was full of friends, and it made me smile a lot, those good smiles that will keep coming back to me in the week ahead. I feel so fortunate for the people I have in my life; the ones who kinda have to be here—my mom, my sister, Victor—and the ones who choose to be. The ones who periodically show up with a kind word or a funny memory, the ones who just say “I’m thinking about you.” It’s a lovely thing, having people around who care.

Being sick makes me more appreciative, of course, and I assume that it also makes others feel a more urgent need to share their feelings. I treasure both of those things. And there’s one thing of which I am sure: my gratitude is sincere. I’m, like, the biggest bitch EVER when I’m feeling rotten, and if I can feel gratitude in the midst of my one-week-post-chemo pain, I know it’s the real deal.

And that’s where I am right now. I’ve described the feeling before as why-did-I-spend-all-that-time-rolling-in-gravel???, because it hurts everywhere. Everywhere. It hurts when I sit and rest my back against my chair. It hurts to be hugged, even lightly. It hurts to roll over in bed. It hurts to stand, to take steps, to turn my head. The pain doesn’t last more than three days or so, and once it starts to dissipate, it happens quickly. The exhaustion hangs around a little longer, but it’s more tolerable—well, it can be napped away, at least. So, y’know, the pain is awful but it doesn’t last forever, and I’m glad for that. In the middle of it, though, I’m not a nice person, and I’m pretty sure my mom will back me up on that.

So I thank you for being patient with me, and for being patient with how the suckiness of cancer sometimes dictates my behavior and mood. It’s not fair that I have to deal with it, but it’s even worse that you do. I’m glad you’ve stuck around and continued to be good to me. I probably don’t deserve you but I’m happy you’re here. Really. You’re all kinds of awesome.

Everyone else? Well, you can just bite my big white arse.