T.C.D. An Up Day.

I'm up.  Figuratively and literally.  It's 10 o'clock and I am up eating a ham sandwich because I have to, but I am also up in spirits and energy.  I knew something was afoot last night as I lay in bed WIDE AWAKE until 2:30am when it finally dawned on me to get out of bed and rustle up some drugs.  After  finally finding something with the label "May Cause Drowsiness" on it, I lay awake for only about a half hour more finishing up my thoughts on how to cure cancer, whether it would be ok to wear sweatpants everyday for the next four months, and strategizing how I might be able to get out of the  rest of chemo.  The Ativan finally kicked in and I found some sleep.

I was up at seven to be with the kids before they were off to school.  I could sleep in in the mornings, but I am desperate to be with them.  Even if it is only for an hour while they eat their oatmeal and I brush their hair.  When they are out the door I fight back tears and often lose.  Right now, I want more than anything to be by their side, to squeeze and hug them and cup their cheeks in my hands and lift them up off the ground and kiss them all over.  A far cry from where I was a year ago when I was hurrying them out the door so I could hurry to work and find that there were never enough hours in the day or enough energy in my body to give 100% to ten different things.

This morning I climbed back in bed for a nap and my only thought was that I wanted enough energy to make it to Pick-Up at the end of the day, which I did.  It felt like an incredible achievement that I was dressed with a scarf on my head and a little make-up on my face with enough energy to eat a sushi lunch with Dad and Lani and make it to down to the school to get the girls.  I also had a visit with my girl Katharine (she snapped the pic of me and Willa) and I squeezed the hell out of her because I missed her so much.  Well, so, these are my achievements now. 

At some point I would also like to accomplish a look in the mirror at my uncovered head, though I have a feeling I might still be a few weeks out from that one.  With a few random hairs left in random places on an otherwise pale bald head, I am quite certain that I am doing myself a HUGE favor when I chant "not looking not looking not looking" as I step out of the shower.  Because when I step out of the shower (in my dimly lit bathroom), I am not drying myself off or putting my pajamas on or finding my robe.  The only thing I am doing is Not Looking at myself in the mirror until I have some damn piece of fabric on my head.  

Like I said, I have a ways to go.