Trying To Keep Normalcy

So, there it is. "Oncologist" has been written in my calendar. It's staring back at me looking all funky and weird. I can't believe I'm having to write that word into my daily planner. It reads, "Oncologist with Mom" on March 5. We're going for her first appointment with the oncologist after rounds of surgery where she's been poked, prodded, sliced, scared, and pricked. . . after rounds of hope and of frustration. . . after recovery after recovery. We'll hear what the doctor, (excuse me, the oncologist), has to say at that appointment to find out where to go from here. During the last surgery, Mom's surgeon took 11 lymph nodes. Good news: only 1 of the 11 had cancer. Bad news: 1 had cancer - making the total cancer count to 2 of 12 examined lymph nodes.

We all have so many questions, I'm glad that appointment with the ONCOLOGIST has been set. There's that damn word again, huh? Sorry to any oncologists out there, but writing your job title out is just plain horrific. No one wants to have to write your name in a calendar! No one wants to know a visit to you is necessary.

Life sucks sometimes, doesn't it? We're all just trying so hard to keep normalcy. Keep going to work, keep making dinner and watching our shows, keep making plans, keep doing laundry and cleaning the house, keep doing homework and making lunches, keep planning a honeymoon and thinking about the future. It's a weird mix: keeping normal patterns of daily life in order to function and have that predictable routine but wanting to just shut down and handle one damn thing at a time. My mind is with Mom when I'm at work. My mind is on work with I'm with Mom. Always feeling like I "should" be doing something else, always worried about what's to come, always angry at the petty little things I deal with at work when there's so many other greater concerns in my head . . . these are pretty typical things that go through my mind.

Here's a glimpse into my over-anxious mind (this could either be scary or really funny): my car needs an oil change, what are we eating for dinner, I need to remember to refer that kid for testing, how many more days until spring break, what day is it and who is picking up my nephew from school, wonder what time Sam will be home from work, what can I wear to school tomorrow that won't make me dread getting out of my warm bed, how's Mom doing - is someone cooking for her tonight, does she need me to help her with anything, where should we stay when we're in London, what are we doing this weekend, wonder how's Sage doing at school, why have I not heard from my dad, I hope Grandpa's okay, we really need to rake the lawn, she had another headache, I should try to go to bed an hour earlier tonight, is this blog okay to publish, I wonder how Sam's grandma is doing today, I need to do my taxes, oy, TAKS!, wonder how Robyn's doing with another baby, when will I have a baby, do I have to go to happy hour, I just want to sleep, I miss Christmas and I'm not even Christian, I really need to jog, but it's too cold outside, did I pay that bill, mortgage is due soon, when do I get my paycheck, I hope Sam deposited his check, I can't wait for Lost to come on, I wish that damn automated voice would stop leaving messages Marcus Ward - I don't know who the heck that is, that ARD lasted WAY too long, I can't sit through one more with her, do I have enough energy to straighten my hair tonight, what will Mom look like without any hair, oncologist.

Trying my best to keep normalcy is all I can do to cope with the circumstances for myself and for Mom. I'm sure I'll look back on this year and wish none of it ever happened, but there will be more years, there will be more fun and happiness another time. I have to be grateful that the doctors caught everything, that we are in great hands, that we're all in this together. I have to remember "this too shall pass," and we will look back on this nightmare with strength and "upliftedness."In the meantime, "just keep swimming," "just do the best you can," "just keep pushing through," are my mottoes. We can't hide from this cancer or from the demands of daily life. We can't let it consume us, so I will keep worrying about it all, keep having girl-talk with Mom, keep planning the honeymoon, keep focusing on my marriage, keep going to work and trying to give it all I've got, keep doing the mundane things like laundry and grocery shopping, keep complaining about things that bug me, etc. But, I've learned to take some time for myself and try NOT to sweat the small stuff - or at least tell myself not to. Big, deep breaths are my best friends right now - as is letting Sam hold me and tell me, "You can do it," when I feel all is impossible. This all seems so selfish, though, I know, when Mom is going through this battle. But, I like to think of it as all of us going through this - she's not alone, she's got an army of people helping her fight off all the crap she's dealing with right now. I just need a place where I can feel free to share what I'm feeling in order to be a better daughter and a better nurse and cheerleader for her.

I'll blog again after the next appointment, maybe before then about something totally different. In the meantime, keep thinking good thoughts! It's going to be a long road, but it's a road I know will lead to health and life. So proud of you, Mom! Once again, you are proving that you are my hero. I love you!