Every day I wake up and pretty much have the same routine. I get out of bed and put in my contacts, go to the bathroom, wash my hands, and head into the kitchen.
There, I promptly make the coffee, take some ibuprofen, unload the dishwasher, reload the dishwasher, start a load of clothes in the washer, and fold what is in the dryer (sometimes). I get a glass of ice water with lime, grab my phone off the charger, and sit down at my kitchen table. I read my Journey daily devotion, sip on my ice water, and just enjoy the peace and quiet that is soon to be interrupted by any number of people: my husband on his way to work, a random teenager getting ready to go home after staying all night, my daughter getting a little snuggle before going back to bed (MY bed, mind you), or one or both of my boys leaving for an early morning practice.
The house starts to come alive.
The TV in the kitchen now blares the morning news. I listen to the anchors hit the highlights then it becomes background noise as light is filtering through the windows. I go into my closet and change into my workout gear (for later) and I start to contemplate my day.
Who has ballgames today? Where? What time?
Did I get their uniforms washed?
Do the boys have practice later?
If so, what time do I need to get dinner done?
What am I going to FIX for dinner??
What office work needs to be taken care of today? Tax forms filed? Bookwork sent in?
Do I need to go to the bank? Post office? Grocery store?? Yes, yes, and yes.
I wonder if someone is going to call about a house today?
And then, if I’m feeling like today is all under control -----> What do we have going on tomorrow?
All this is pretty much every morning for me. Pretty normal for a busy wife and Momma of 3 right? Yep. But my mornings (and whole days, really) are scattered with reminders of my battle with breast cancer and the fight I will continue to fight for the rest of my life.
When I first get out of bed in the morning my feet and ankles are so stiff that I almost hobble to the bathroom. I take ibuprofen to combat some of the joint aches and pains that I have most of the time. When I am listening to the morning news, my ears automatically perk up at any mention of “cancer,” specifically “breast cancer” and whatever new drug, cause, or screening recommendation is out that day. When I go into my room to change into my workout clothes I glance at the top of my closet where my beautiful blonde wig is in a box and next to it the scarves and sock caps that once covered my bald head. Also there are binders of my lab results, pathology reports, and other information given to me during my year of treatment. As I sit back down at the table, I wonder if I took my medicine the night before; the medicine that robs my body of any estrogen but also lessens my chance of a recurrence. Now the calendar: The day’s schedule not only revolves around kids’ sports and activities schedules, but also around doctor’s appointments, though thankfully aren’t as often as they once were.
And that’s where I am today: Tomorrow is another oncologist appointment. Yet another reminder of cancer. It has been 3 months since I have been on the seventh floor, and Lord-willing it will be another 3 after tomorrow until I have to go back.
Praying for a smooth appointment tomorrow for myself, and also for everyone else on the seventh floor whether doctor, patient, friend, or family member.