I seem to have reached the point of fed-up a bit short of the point of finished. My patience is worn not only thin, but off, like the soles of my favorite Merrells. I've worn through two pairs so far, replacing them when the soles had turned to holes, but for this, I have no idea where to go for replacement.
I'd like to stop complaining and catastrophizing, and I'd like my real life back, the one with normal chaos and annoyances, like dog hair and the service light on in the car. I'm weary beyond reckoning of being bone tired, feverish, weak, nauseated, brain-addled, and in pain.
I'd like to once again be a nice person to live with: one who is cheerful, helpful, generous, positive, and cooks good things, instead of someone who runs from the smell of coffee or lettuce (chemo and lettuce: very VERY bad) Who wants to live with a retching wretch? Certainly not me.
So, yes, I understand that I have to do this one more, one last time. July 31. But I don't have to like it.
You know...life never goes back. We just build on all these experiences to let them go when they have served their purpose and are no longer useful. Glad you are venting. Glad you are writing. Glad you are truthful. Glad you have so much love from your son, husband, students and friends. BTW, lettuce is overrated so you're not missing much.
ReplyDeleteI imagine Cheryl Huff on a bad day to be better than 99% of people on a good day!
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