With Cancer/Chemo comes new
rules. Now me, I like rules. Sometimes.
If they make sense and are applicable.
If not, they’re just dumb and I don’t follow them. But if the rules fit in my box, I love them. ‘Cept some of them around here are new and
have been implemented as a standard necessity for getting through this new life
with as few head-knockings as possible.
Here are a few:
Carey Only Does One Thing At A
Time. Always. For everything. One night I said I would make the mushrooms
to go with steak and potatoes. Which I
did. Dumped ‘em in a pan of Johnny’s
seasoned butter, turned the burner on low and then went off on the
computer. Then made a phone call. Then ordered ink on Amazon. Then did the chickens. Came back in and Jeff had finished the
steak. Oh, that’s right, I was making
mushrooms. Crap.
Carey Always Tells Jeff Where She Is
Going In The Store. Otherwise she is an
errant child who lost her parent and the parent is full and well pissed off by
the time of reconnection. Goes with the
one thing at a time business. I’m
walking, I see cute towels, Jeff is looking to see if the Instant Breakfast is
on sale and it’s all gone completely to pot.
Again and again and again.
Especially At Costco. Which in my defense, is usually following a
procedure/chemo/some other “trauma” where I am so drugged out I can’t find the
hand attached to my arm, let alone remember that a spouse drove me there. Look, cute kitchen towels.
Buy Only A Few. When I went back to work all the kids had
grapes in their lunches. So I wanted
grapes. No, I did not take grapes out of
their lunchboxes, before that little rumor gets started. Jeff, darling that he is, purchased a full
bag of red AND a full bag of green just in case I was color sensitive. I ate three grapes. Two red, one green. Okay, little exaggeration, but I came nowhere
near decimating either bag. The chickens
ended up very happy. So now when I have
a hankering for something, buy a very small amount because the hankering is as
long as my attention span.
Stop Drinking Coffee In The
Afternoon. Seriously, it makes me want
to throw up. Yet every afternoon around
4:00, I go to the coffee pot, pour it, nuke it and almost puke it. Actually I don’t, that just rhymed. It does make my stomach sour and every single
day I wonder why I do it. Only to do it
again the next day. Learning curve,
people. Not so much.
Burn The Steroid High Day
To-List. On Steroid Crash Day, which is
the day that follows Steroid High Day, the day after Chemo. Because otherwise I see this list of things
that seemed utterly possible to do the day before as insurmountable obstacles
that just make me want to cry because I’m a sleepy weakling. Did I mention that prior to the cancer
diagnosis a “successful day” was one where the to-do list got completely
done. Hence the match to the Steroid
High Day List. Let’s just not take that to the party and call it good.
Comb Hair Outside. Save the vacuum. Save Jeff’s sanity having to sweep it
up. Save Carey from an emotional
meltdown when she pulls GOBS of hair off her head and has to throw it in the
garbage can. It’s just easier to go
outside, comb, shake and walk back into the house. Oh, and shake like crazy because all the hair
sticks to whatever you’re wearing.
Cancer changes you, people. Good or
bad, holy cow, it changes you.
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