I’ve written this over and over. It is probably boring, but you can skip to the last parts where it gets interesting again.
I was reading a book and ran across a sentence about how hard it was to do something so easy. It was walking. When you walk you take a step, but you must take another step or you will be off balance. The only way to keep balanced is to keep going. As I was thinking about this, I realized even baby steps don’t work when you are a grown up. You can’t take those properly, you stumble when you get off stride. You need proper footwear, supporting and strong. (I recall being on a rugged hiking trail with some tourists. One of the women in a group ahead of me was having a hard time. She also was wearing 3 inch heels) When you exercise and ‘step’ you set your pace when you walk normally. You don’t figure your steps when you are in an area of uncertain ground or clutter. You find a clear space and measure there. As you walk, your handy dandy step counter takes into consideration the terrain you cover and does the math for you. (I don’t have a contraption or app to do this, so if my explanation is inaccurate, I’ll fix it when told. I’m good at fixing most things!)
From what I’ve discovered, I’m out of sync. I’m weak and whiney and bitchy and I can never ever ever be what anyone wants me to be. I don’t know what I am supposed to be. Mom is always right or bigger or better. I’m never good enough for her or my spouse or anyone around me. I feel guilty when I can’t be the person people expect me to be. On the few pancreatic cancer caretaking sites I’ve visited, I feel guilty. Others, in the span of weeks, lose loved ones. I’m often told mom will be ok. When she visits the doctor I feel guilty because the person she portrays is not the one I live with. I often think people don’t believe me if I am able to tell them anything. I try to avoid people and when I’m asked ‘how are you doing?’ I side step the question or mention I’m doing as well as can be expected.
Which is stupid. I should be quite well. Mom is apparently not as sick as I think she is, I have all the time in the world to read, I am in the most beautiful place in the entire universe when I’m not in the basement, I often leave the house to do errands or other things, I get texts or messages from people every day, my spouse texts me almost every night to say he loves me and to wish me a good night, I read great blogs, I have internet access that is not dial up, I have absolutely everything I need to be content in my position.
What is wrong with me? Why am I so unable to give to people what they need or want? (I don’t expect an answer, I don’t think there is one! Unless it is 42….but, I digress.) I need to keep my mouth closed, each time I open it I say something wrong or harsh or unfair. It is easier to talk to strangers I’ll never see again, I don’t have to be careful I’ll step on a set of toes. I see different friends live their lives and am jealous. Which is absolutely ridiculous. As a Shadow Girl, I’ve always watched other people. There should be no reason why this last year is any different. I’ve said I need to join the parade, it isn’t logical. I’m a backstage sort. (The ones who do things in the dark and get yelled at when props are misplaced.)
I sense the darkness nearby and am annoyed. It is so much fun to find good in things, blessings, and joy. I have counted them up in my days and written them down. Oddly, they don’t seem to change me. I guess I’m too depressing to allow those wonderful bursts of light to really matter. Slipping into the shadows when one is a shadow is pretty easy. It is crazy how dozens of positive messages can be negated by one off struck seemingly negative hammer blow. Absolutely knocks the feet out from under me.
It is amazing how many lights are out there, though. Different persons send me encouragement and make me laugh at random texts (Kel who was shooting flies with his salt gun and being frustrated about not hitting them!). Books to read with great thoughts mingled in with the fantasy (and even unused gift cards used as book markers! I’m going to take that to the library with the book as soon as I get to town again. I am sure someone might be missing it.). Pints of ice cream, tender chicken breasts, and twizzlers.
In other news, we got a call from the genetic DNA testing person. The woman was disappointed because she was certain sure they’d find a mutation in mom’s genetic make-up which would give them an opening to find a way to halt the cancer. They are sending us another vial for a sample to archive. They’d like to keep mom’s blood on record for the future. Science is ever changing and discoveries are made almost daily. Someday, it is hoped, the scientists can find a way to stop or cure or otherwise inhibit this sort of cancerous activity in someone else. I like that sort of legacy. Information is a tremendous power to hold. I was also told (I didn’t take complete notes, she said she’d send hers and I’d much rather have her notes than mine!) I’m in a 23% risk for cancers. (Not bad at all). She also mentioned (I laughed) that mammograms in younger breasts don’t always give accurate information. Because of their ‘density’ an MRI mammogram is sometimes recommended. I told her I’d had regular ones, ultra sound ones, and MRI. In my last normal mammogram in 2016 I was told (off the record, by the tech) my breasts looked great. (she was looking at the imaging, but I had to agree. Absolutely fascinating to see all the veins and then the awful glaring square clip which was inserted because of something the doctors didn’t like. She didn’t see why that was put in, I don’t either. It was incredibly traumatic and sometimes it aches. I was told that is in my imagination by doctors, but there are times it does hurt.) Anyway, I’m pretty sure my next one will be even easier to do as the ‘density’ appears to be on the wane.
Mum’s pain pump meds were increased again. Her health nurse visited and was surprised mom’s having the carpal tunnel surgery and mom wanted to know why she’d be surprised. (I left the room!) Mom’s been telling fish stories from my biological dad (literally, it was one of his favorite things to do, besides dance.). She also doesn’t know the more testing we’re looking at is for cognitive purposes. She’ll probably refuse. (her option)
I’m hoping to talk to a counselour from Hospice for myself, we’ll see if I can finagle some time to get over to her. I’m also hoping to see a movie this next week, to house elf for a bit, and I did get out in the kayak last night. (why does it seem colder on an overcast evening in May than on a sunny late afternoon in an icy September?) Spotted one of our polygamous Golden Eyes. He had 5 females around him!!!!! Of course they flew off as soon as I got the camera out.