It’s like I’m on the edge of the cliff. I’m teetering and I know that I’m going over the edge, it’s just a matter of time. Luckily, I know that I also have a rope and harness so it’s a safe fall. I’m not falling, I’m repelling.  This is a calculated, measured, controlled fall.  Physiologically, my brain tells me: I am...

Today is Chemo Day #2.  Woo hoo!  Bring it on. Yes, I am actually excited.  Remember?  Chemotherapy is what is killing the damn cancer.  Gimme a large helping of that, please. I’ll be in the Chemo Room at Dr. Wonderful’s office from 11am-2pm today.  Would you pray for me?  I am not sure what to ask for specifically, so just pray whatever you think about...

Tonight @ 8:30pm, as Brad and I are doing the end-of-the-really-awesome-fun-weekend-pick-up in the kitchen: Him: “You know, I was really hoping your hair would fall out this weekend.” Me: “What?!?!”  Followed by prolonged laughter.  “What do you mean by that?”  More laughter.  I mean, really.  Did my husband really just say that?...

It’s true.  I now regularly hide from my youngest child. Greta was born as one of those babies who knew her mama and would not tolerate anyone else holding her.  She, in all of her roly-poly ten pound eight ounce glory, was very vocal about her love for her mama from the moment she was born.  (I secretly loved this.  What mama wouldn’t?)  By contrast...

This morning I woke up feeling like me again.  I’ll write more about it later, but right now I am anxious to catch up with my babies, my friends, my piles, my laundry, and all of the other things that heap together and make me, me.  I plan on soaking in this beautiful day.  Joy in cancer?  You betcha.  

I am feeling weebly, wobbley, woozy, and wugged, in the spirit of Dr. Seuss.  Trying to label my feelings, my twinges, my aches: they just sound like whining rather than reporting or sharing.  And, I’m not whiney (believe me, I have two young children, I know what whining sounds like.)  So, I borrow from Seuss and his whimsy.  I am looking after myself to the...