Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

21 laps equal a mile. I went 6 before the picc line (Peripherally inserted central catheter) was put in. That’s where the chemotherapy goes. It sounds so simple; it’s where the chemo goes. It’s where the medication takes me to an inch of my life and then allows me to crawl back to life. This whole concept seems very overwhelming still and I don’t think I’ve properly processed at all. A week ago today I still thought it was a mouth infection, annoyed that I was missing a vendor meeting. Now I’m sitting in a bed, waiting for chemo to enter my body.

I got moved to a room with a view, and Oceanview to be exact. My nurse is a rockstar. I love the ocean even as a young child. It was my most favorite place to be. I love hearing the ocean waves lap on the shores, the smell of the salt water. It always had a way of recharging me especially when I was sad I felt alone. It’s simply made my less feel more. Isn’t that how we all want to feel? More? More happy? More fulfilled? More of this? More of that? I always wanted to feel more me whatever that meant. I have walked through this life so far always feeling less and not sure why. I never feel like I live up to the expectations of myself. And I don’t know what that is sure I could sit here and think it’s cultural, but is it really? Do I just feel less because I wish I was more?

J is heading home to wrangle the children and play referee. Today is prep day anyway, tomorrow is day one of chemo. There’s no need for him to sleep here tonight and to be honest, I think he needs his own time alone to process. We figured out the parking situation so we’re not paying $10 parking a day without in/out privileges. I’m already going to live under a bridge after this whole cancer thing is done with lol. My Ivy and I are headed for a walk six more laps.