Skip to main content

T-1. Tick.....tick.....tick.....

So, tomorrow's the big day. I spent today taking my second round of antibiotics, on a clear liquid diet and doing my colon prep. It's pretty safe to say I don't feel like going dancing right now and my lower alimentary canal has just asked for a divorce. However, if you happen to have a wonderfully greasy cheeseburger for me, you'll have a friend for life.

I realize not much of this makes sense and really this is just putting off going to bed. I'm a little anxious and scared, at the same time really wanting this whole thing over. So much feels uncertain right now - health, career, education - and after tomorrow a new normal will happen that there's no preview for. I am certain of the important things, thankfully. Between my husband, my family and so many fiends, no one has let me forget that I am loved and that alone will help me sleep tonight and get through the surgery and recovery. How blessed I am.

And with that I shall say goodnight.

Comments

Erin said…
Just wanted to say I'm thinking about you, Leslie. God with you.
Lacey said…
Hang in there and try to let the worry go. You are in great hands and have a fabulous support system. Praying for you!

Popular posts from this blog

Happy Birthday

Waking up in the morning is a little different these days. As I said to Jim on Wednesday evening as we were preparing for bed, "I woke up this morning okay, now I'm going to bed as with cancer." Caregiver becomes patient. Life has changed. I have read others talk about "life before/after" as being two different concepts and wondered if it really felt that demarcated, but the answer for me, at least for now, is yes. The life in which I took my health (and sanity?) for granted is done, now it's time to sit up and pay attention. Half-time is over, it's time to play serious ball. This morning I received a lovely slap upside the head that was sorely needed. Miss Peyton  turns 7 today. Four years ago Peyton was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia and is now a survivor. To my eye there are no physical reminders of what Peyton went through, but as I looked at her birthday pictures today I could hear her tell me to get over myself, to get on with it a...

Okay, so....

I haven't cried yet. Am I supposed to? Will it make me feel better? What's the standard protocol here? I know the things to say to family members and patients when they  have cancer, but what's the etiquette for the patient herself? I don't want this to be the All Cancer, All The Time blog, but damn it, I'm out of my element here. If someone has a clue, I have a whole bunch of quarters.