Minus One

I only slept four hours last night due to the chemo (9-1am), got up to read and be pissed off, and of course, now feel more energetic than normal. Ha. It's exactly what I expected, but it won't last. My head is just too full of words. In the meantime, I'm doing laundry and assorted other chores I hate. That should bore me back to the sleep I need.

Or not. I'm remembering ten years ago, when my first night on the same drugs, minus one, was pure hell. Steve was on the phone @ 2:00am with my oncologist, pleading for help to keep me alive as I regurgitated most of the mandatory drugs into the toilet (or the floor or the bed), with a body torn apart by surgery, held together with stitches, and excruciating pain that left me unable to walk alone. I won't even use words ugly enough to describe it. Yet I lived.

The minus one is the difference. Turns out that what is mandatory for most, is not mandatory for me. Thank you God.

Now here's the good stuff. I'm writing my blog, my book, letters to friends, emails, and other notes. I love to write. I'm planning a nice meal for my guys tonight (if I'm still awake). I'm not going bald this time. Fortunate, since I don't have much left from previous treatments, but I still somehow look "normal" and it's sort of long and way curly. (Huh? White hair curls?) My daughter loves us and we talk a lot, even at nine hours away. My autistic son is doing things we'd never thought possible with more new things on the horizon.

I could go on, but no need. Yes, I crave prayers of those who pray and good thoughts of those who don't. But I want you to know that I am happy and content. And freakin' tired.