I'm Not Sick, I'm Alive

I went to bed early last night with the flu and slept in the extra bedroom so as not to disturb Steve. It was a rough night as I periodically woke up in pain, head and muscles throbbing, unable to move. "I think I'm dying. We'll have to cancel our guests for dinner; there's no way I can handle that tonight. And it's probably my cancer roaring back. I'm in my tenth year but it's been a good run. See how brave I am?" Gag me.

At my worst, I actually got up and crawled in to see Steve, hoping for some sympathetic comfort. He gently rubbed my head, brought me painkillers, and babied his miserable wife, letting me sink back into blessed oblivion. After about thirteen hours in bed, I finally woke up, felt fairly normal, and got dressed. Oh, get over it. Everyone gets the flu. You're normal!

What the heck was that all about? If it was simply a twelve hour flu, I get it. But I'm a bit concerned that I was obsessing too much on having cancer. Yeah, that word did flit through my brain a bit too often. Yes, my CA125 count is currently high enough to kill a normal mortal, though I'm not on chemo. I'm "on a break." Sometimes I'm afraid I allow myself to roll over into self-pity, assuming this amazing ride is coming to an end. Why can't I just enjoy the ride?

It's mid-afternoon now, and our company is due soon. I'm a bit achey, but mostly fine. It's time to focus on someone else, and just be glad for this opportunity to see dear old friends. Yes, it's been nearly ten years, and they do know I've had cancer, but having not seen each other for so long, they can't really know what it's been like. And I don't plan to tell them. What a way to ruin a dinner party!

We'll catch up on "kid" news, laugh and tell stories, share our faith experiences, and have a lovely time. I feel better already.