Last night, something happened to me. I don’t know what exactly, but my body just went slack and it still isn’t right. I can’t seem to get my legs to listen to me today, and walking is out of the question. WonderDaddy had to cancel his big meetings at work to care for the kids by himself, and I just stayed in bed all day, medicated to high heaven and wishing the hours to pass.
My oncologist was NO HELP, telling me to alternate tylenol and motrin (in addition to the oxy) until my appointment with her tomorrow. Oh, sure, no problem. I’ll just LIE HERE until then.
To sum up: can’t feel my legs. Can’t move them very well either. Still can’t eat anything besides crackers and toast. When the meds wear off, I can feel the bones in my legs because they are like knives, with the sharp blades rubbing against each other in the joints. Chemo again tomorrow. All I can do is lie here and look out the high window across from my bed, cuddling my oldest and reading him books or watching a movie together.
So I did that. And as we watched the season’s first snow blanket our neighborhood, I realized that I am still lucky. Lucky to be here with my little ones. Lucky to be alive. I’m not sad today. Just wishing that tomorrow were here already and we could get some idea whether this is related to the expected neuropathy or if something else has happened. Because really I have no idea.