August 1, 2010
I spent most of today alone in the house, resting. John took Tanner and John to Chattanooga, where he met my parents and handed Jake off for a couple of days of special Grandmom and Grandad time. He and Tanner then went to Lookout Mountain and did Rock City. They had a ball and came home very tired. But, we all miss our little man already.
As I was resting on the sofa watching movies, I was feeling a little sorry for myself. Oddly, because I feel pretty good, but my neck is still too sore for me to stay up very long without it starting to hurt; it feels much better when it is resting against a pillow or the sofa. But, because I feel good, I’m a little stir crazy and tired of looking at the inside of our house.
I found myself thinking, how many more days until I can get back to my normal routine? And, then I thought, how many times must Tanner have felt this way? How many times must she ask herself, “How many more days until I can get back to being normal?” How many more times will she have to go to clinic? How many more times will she have to let them put that needle in her chest? How many more times must she be terrified she won’t wake up from the sleepy milk? How many more times will she skip dinner on Friday night because of her Thursday night dose of methotrexate? How many more fun things must she miss because her counts are low? More, more, more…
How long must this journey feel to her? I can’t imagine. I know how long it feels to me and I’m only sitting on the sidelines. Five days of neck pain has inspired me to feel sorry for myself. What would fourteen months of chemo do to me?
I’m going to try to remind myself how I feel today the next time I ask Tanner to suck it up and just take her chemo without complaining. She has every right to be sick of this. And, I’m going to stop telling her, just one more year. It’s not an inspiring comment.