Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

Yesterday was not a good chemo day at all. They couldn’t find a vein at the infusion center and had to send me to the hospital for radiology to insert PIV (peripheral IV via ultrasound). Then went back to the infusion center to find that the blood return was really minimal and I wouldn’t be able to keep the line in me for the remainder of my chemo. Grrr. They had to remove the PIV line after chemo was done.

Later that evening J and I got into it what started out as him keeping L past his bedtime ultimately lead to me deciding that I would drive myself to get a new PIV myself and chemo.

Today was the kids last day of school. Summer has officially begun. I got up and like we have done for their first and last days since Kindergarten – I took photos. I did S’s hair in pigtails and L brushed his teeth and washed his face for the photos. I kept it short and sweet with a few shots. They headed off to school and I showered as I’m schedule for a PIV to finish out this round of chemo. Showering will be a little tricky and may end up being a wipe down. I didn’t do too bad taking my own self to chemo. The hospital walk was rough but I got a ride with a wheelchair to the car on the way back.

Interesting fact: According to a study published in the journal Cancer, a woman with cancer or other serious illness is six times more likely to be separated or divorced soon after receiving her diagnosis. When I was first discharged from the hospital I was barely able to walk let alone help with family duties. Now R3D3 – I do the dishes, light vacuuming, picking up in the kitchen and living room as well and laundry. We have settled back into the roles where resentment sits. I resent those traditional gender roles that make house maintenance my responsibilities versus a joint family effort. I resent that him doing the dishes require accolades where I am expected to do the dishes. I resent that mowing the lawn once a month and moving the trash bins from the sidewalk to the street is considered supporting the family efforts. The meal train ended last week – so he hasn’t prepared a meal for the children this entire time. I ordered out one night and have made leftover stretch a few days. I prepared dinner the last few nights. L wrangles the trash weekly and brings the bins to the sidewalk. L does the laundry, I fold. Each child puts away their respective bundles of folded clothing. S does the dishes, I load. Children and I pick up and I do some light vacuuming. I say this to ponder and navigate my resentment. I partly blame him for my cancer. That sounds f*cking crazy. But I am resentful.

I grew up with the traditional family framework – the expectation was that my mother maintain the home. Though if memory serves me; my father did laundry, dishes, trash as well. I don’t recall my mother ever asking him to pitch him. He just did what was necessary. Kinda like the TSA “See something. Say something.” You just pitch it. You see the dishwater is full, empty it. You see clothes are in the dryer, fold them. See something, do something. Instead I’m always asking. Though I don’t ask J to do the dishes, laundry, vacuuming anymore. I’m a nag and a micromanager when I do. So I expect that he will pitch in – but he rarely does. I am resentful. I stay quiet now. When he parks on the other end of the hospital instead of directly in front…I stay quiet and just walk it. He asks why didn’t I tell him? Because you tell me I micromanage you, so I shut the f*ck up and walk the extra 20 yards to the correct building. I am resentful. He tells me he doesn’t mind driving me around to chemo and my appointments but then tells me he’s exhausted and has no personal time. I’m not exhausted bro, just living the fu*king dream getting chemo. I stay quiet. They give me an anti-nausea drug called Zofran (ondansetron) as part of my chemo infusion, which makes me super dizzy that I shouldn’t drive, yet today I downed three bottles of water and finished two IV fluid bags so I could get right to drive.

I see a lot of men getting chemo and their wives dutifully sit waiting with them. And as of late I have also observed the females getting chemo; they come alone. Why is that? Is it because they are divorced? When the men show up without their wives, there is a voice of concern from the oncology nurses. “Mr Smith where is your wife? Oh she’s just running a quick errand but will be right back? I thought she left you here alone.” Where the reaction to me being alone was “Hi Nina, where’s J? Oh he’s home and will pick you up later. Do you want a warm blanket?” Crickets.

Tomorrows chemo is at 10:00am. I’ll take myself and wait out the dizziness with fluids and water then nap when I get home. At the end of the day I have to rely on myself to get through this. Lean on friends and family – but this is my fight. I have to stand up and face this alone. The chemo goes into my body. I have to drink water. I have to rest. I have to listen to my body’s limits. People tell me you’re not alone…I’m not, but also I am. I haven’t quite unpacked that but it’s too late now to dive into that rabbit hole. Tomorrow is another day. Step by step.