Shadows of the evening fall...

Remember how I said I would be honest?

Run away now if you don't want a sad, ugly post.

Yesterday = Hard Hard day for me.

I wept.  I cried.  I yelled.  I even tried to throw something

and as luck would have it, it wouldn't break.

I throw like a damn girl.  I guess I am a girl.  And I already knew I threw like one, who was I trying to kid?

I tried to throw some plates Kyle's aunt brought over just for this purpose and went out back and took aim at our shed.

I breathed deeply.  I focused.  I took aim and then I threw!

The &*#^&$ thing went sailing right over the top of the shed.

I missed by a mile.  Maybe two.

I tried again....

Perhaps not enough deep breathing?  Or focusing?

I missed again (FAR) to the right this time. (half a mile?)

I almost stepped in dog poop (and swore at the dog) and tried one more plate, successfully hitting the EDGE of the roof this time.

It made me MORE angry that I throw like a girl (and what good is breaking plates if you can't even HIT THE THING YOU'RE TRYING TO BREAK THE PLATES ON?!?!?  << my best yelling voice)

*&$(@# bad luck. 

Maybe someone needs to give me throwing lessons?

(Let me assure you however, there is absolutely NO HOPE in ever

teaching me how to hit something.)

I cried so hard I got a headache and coughed so hard I almost threw up.  

It was an ugly "slam my door"  "body shaking"  "sobbing" "heart wrenching" kind of cry.

I thought I was done with those, and yet this one came unbidden.

As I'm sure the next one,

and the next one,

and the next one, will do too.

Come unbidden.

I hate it (HATE IT) that cancer is ALWAYS looming in our backround.

I'm so very envious that other people can come visit, or call and then go home to normal lives.

Normal lives.

The kind of lives WITHOUT cancer in the backround.

I'm so envious that people get to take Spring Break trips, and go out to dinner and do all the normal kind of people things without thinking about cancer, or talking about cancer, or breathing cancer, or living cancer.

#ihatecancer.

I'm tired of talking about DNR's, and power of attorney, and living wills and insurance, and passwords, and things that are still getting in order, things that HAVE TO be talked about.

I just want to wake up and have one more normal day.

A "before cancer" kind of day.

But that is never going to happen again.

We will have good days, and better days, and bad days but they will all be filled with cancer and treatments and doctor appointments and labs and bloodwork and taking temperatures.

Back to yesterday.

A terrible horrible no good very bad day.

Kyle, who knows me so very well, let me have at it.

Plate throwing, swearing, crying, headaches, almost vomiting and all.

He probably secretly giggled (yes giggled) as I threw plates and missed targets.  (And why shouldn't he, I have no skills when it comes to plate throwing.)

Sigh.

But he let me go until I could go no more.

And as the shadows of the evening fell, I curled up on our bed and he came to lay down beside me.  The slanting sun splashed its rays across our bed, making long shadows around us.

He wrapped me up in his arms, held me tightly, and whispered in my ear. (Because it's not like HE'S the one with terminal cancer and I should be comforting HIM or anything!)

Things like, "It WILL be OK Dor."  "You WILL get through this even if you think you can't."  "I'm not dead yet." (Good one!)  "You're beautiful" (Have you SEEN my swollen eyes and blotchy face?) "You smell good" (seriously?) "I love you." (I love you too) "Do you want to punch something?  You can punch me!" (No because I would probably miss even though you're right next to me!)  "Let's just take one day at a time."  (I'm trying) 

So,

one day at a time...

That's what I'll try for today.

Tonight?

Carbo load for chemo!  (Hey if marathon runners can do it, so can chemo patients.)

Round Three tomorrow.

Huntsman 9 AM sharp.

Be there or be square.

We will be there!

Superman shirt on!

#teamkyle #go #fight #win

NYC April 2012  Shadow Pictures  *Kyle *Dor *Josh *Grace