* When someone calls me strong, occasionally, it's okay to let out a slightly conceded "yeah, I know." Because yeah, I'm one tough lady.
* When you feel super crabby, smile. Make someone laugh. Being the light in someone else's life, even when you find yourself in a dark place, is an instant mood booster. But it doesn't last long. This is pretty much why cancer requires good humor.
* The occupation "Hospitalist" is loosely translated to: weekend devil that orders crazy meds until you have no appetite just so they can then order Ensure cause they're bored and think it's funny. I said loosely...
* Asian nurses hurt. You can tell them your skin is sensitive until red in the face, but they are still going to rip that bandage off and probably take some skin for good measure.
* When the C gets dumped into your marriage, it will turn small cracks into rubble or refortify the walls. Not saying our marriage is perfect, but it has certainly proven we make one heck of a strong team.
* Attitude really is everything. Really! Positive, half full, optimistic, joyful. Those people in the infusion room talk about life. Negative, half empty, pessimistic, doubtful. They talk about their side effects. I believe words have power and we receive what we speak. If that's the case, do you want to experience more life or the side effects of living that life.
* When you feel super crabby, smile. Make someone laugh. Being the light in someone else's life, even when you find yourself in a dark place, is an instant mood booster. But it doesn't last long. This is pretty much why cancer requires good humor.
* The occupation "Hospitalist" is loosely translated to: weekend devil that orders crazy meds until you have no appetite just so they can then order Ensure cause they're bored and think it's funny. I said loosely...
* Asian nurses hurt. You can tell them your skin is sensitive until red in the face, but they are still going to rip that bandage off and probably take some skin for good measure.
* When the C gets dumped into your marriage, it will turn small cracks into rubble or refortify the walls. Not saying our marriage is perfect, but it has certainly proven we make one heck of a strong team.
* Attitude really is everything. Really! Positive, half full, optimistic, joyful. Those people in the infusion room talk about life. Negative, half empty, pessimistic, doubtful. They talk about their side effects. I believe words have power and we receive what we speak. If that's the case, do you want to experience more life or the side effects of living that life.
Lastly. I think I have previously written, somewhere, that my prayers have always been teach/grow/change and simply to experience everything. And while most may focus on the pain and what cancer or chemo may take away, or let out a eff cancer...
Here's what I know. I have been gifted the ability to experience this side of humanity. And it is an incredible experience. As someone that has prided themselves on being fiercely independent (to a fault), being offered help and humbling myself to accept my own weakness has certainly been a growing experience.
And the people I don't personally know. Some named. One anonymous. That send unexpected gifts that bring me such joy. I know this will sound strange, but it feels like a reward. I know. Calling cancer a reward, girl lost her mind! Stay with me...
Being a caregiver and loving on my dad as he exited this world, was in a word stressful. Though grateful for the time, it eats away and drains your soul. As caregiver, you are literally giving your energy to that person. And I know this because I feel Fred feeding me with his energy. You don't realize how much it takes of you until they have passed and you're suddenly left without a to-do list. I gave so much of myself, and now my cup is being refilled as people send me their love and prayers.
I mean. Basically what I'm saying is Fred better win the lottery after all of this. Because being a co-caregiver and then primary caregiver proves this man I've married is a SAINT!
