Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

When I hear the word “pivot” I instantly think of Ross Gellar screaming “PIVOT” in the couch scene of Friends, though now “pivot” feels different to me when I hear it. I think of my mistakes and think of my “pivot”. This cancer certain is a pivot for me. I used to work 10-12 hours a day, now my days are filled with my morning walks, picking up around the house, some laundry or dishes and a lot of time for reflection. What a pivot! My morning routine use to be 3 cups of Italian Roast coffee, I’d fire up the computer and get the kids off to school with the typical check list of items they are supposed to do, you know like brushing your teeth…which for some reason is a difficult task to remember. After the kids were off to school, I’d refill my coffee cup and by then the emails would have fully refreshed and downloaded. I’d check my meetings for the day and roll my eyes when I saw “those” meetings on my calendar. You know the super annoying guy from legal that wants to talk things to death. I’d spend those calls off camera letting him hear himself talk, they indeed love the sound of their own voice. I would give a “you bet”, “that sounds great”, or “can’t wait to collaborate” and simultaneously wanting to stab my ears with a butter knife. After an hour of torture I’d bust through emails, some were repetitive questions that I would either point you to the FAQ site that I created or respond to you AGAIN. That depended on the level of jerk you were in the email. I’d occasionally get some really great emails with real roadblocks that needed me to stop, think and research. I’d get lost in the problem and get lost in the process until my screen popped up with yet another call. My workday was just getting “meeting to death” – we’d never get anything accomplished or move forward, it would literally be a recap call…EVERY SINGLE TIME!

Sometimes I would continue my research while on these waste of time calls and work the problem. Inevitably I get a “What do you think?” Sh*t I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention. I’m in the middle of reading CIT findings. I’d have to find some awkward excuse like I couldn’t hear them, I didn’t fully understand the “direction” or whatever corporate lingo for I wasn’t listening to this conversation. At some point my phone alarm would go off to remind me to pick my S. F*ck it’s 2:30pm already? Did I pee today? Coffee cup is empty along with my coffee pot. Sh*t I’m hungry. I would completely forget to do human things like eat breakfast, which was now a late lunch but since I’d have to pick up S, I’d skip it and scarf down dinner eventually. I would only have drank 3 cups of coffee, so going to the bathroom would just skip my mind. No sh*t I got cancer. I’d go pick up S and rush home for a call that would no doubt be scheduled at 3:00pm. She knew the routine, dig around the kitchen for something to eat, nothing sugary – Mama has a call. L would get home at 3:30pm and would sometimes wave at me to announce his arrival home or if he saw the door closed he wouldn’t disturb me knowing he’d get yelled at. Mother of the f*cking year! At some point there would be a Costco baked dish in the oven and I’d hear J yell for the kids to eat. I’d still have my Asia calls so the door would still be closed.

Around 7:30pm I’d emerge for some food and of course eat the entirety of the meal in 10 minutes and look for something else to eat if there wasn’t much left. There was plenty left but I wouldn’t be satiated because my brain didn’t have enough time to recognized I was freaking full.No kidding I was the size of a house with my eating habits. I’d spend about 30 minutes with the kids reminding them to shower and brush their teeth, again. It seems like that was all I was ever telling the kids to do. At 8:00pm it was time for the children to head off to bed. Was homework done? No idea. Did they have a good day at school? I don’t know. Did they learn anything cool? I got nothing. The kids knew however to quickly spit out what they needed for the next day. Crazy hair day! Yogurtland need $2. Parent teacher conference. A quick hug and kiss and they were off to bed. I’d have to “shut down” the computer and get sucked into emails that were coming in from Asia. Let me just quickly respond to these I would say, less to do in the morning! The lies I would tell myself. The reality was it was an obsession. I was obsessed with…work. Ugh, what the f*ck is wrong with me!? With the house quiet again I’d continue with my emails. I’d yawn and look at the clock…It’s 2:30am. I’d finally shut my computer down, J was asleep already mowing down a forest with snoring and I’d lay down and try to fall asleep. Buzz buzz. There’s another email. Europe is awake and in full swing. Buzz buzz. I’d unlock my phone and check real quick. The lies continue. I’d respond “quickly” to another email. Okay, it’s time for bed, phone off! Did I set my alarm? Let me quickly check if I did that. Oooh another email, I can answer this one quickly too. This bullsh*t would go on until 4:00am or when my body would shut down out of exhaustion. The alarm would go off at 7:00am and I would hate life. I have no idea how I got cancer. I’m so surprised!

In hindsight I woke up for years with my lymph nodes swollen and a sore throat. I’d blame forgetting to turn off the ceiling fan or not having enough covers. I’d switch to a lemon tea with honey instead of my coffee and try to nurse myself back to health. The 6 months before I was diagnosed with leukemia was a rolling back to back of illness. Strep throat, bronchitis then pneumonia…and each time J would gently tell me to slow down. I would tell him that I’m fine, it’s just I have insomnia so you know I just work until I’m tired. I can’t sleep anyway. I got so good at lying to myself that I started to believe the crap I was spewing.

Now my pivot is a morning walk, though I didn’t want to go this morning. I didn’t sleep well last night and kept tossing around. My bones hurt and no matter how much stretching I do or Icy Hot Patches I throw on…it’s the bones that hurt and I can’t fix it. At least not without medication and there is so much in me already that the through of even Tylenol is off putting. I looked at the clock at 11:15pm, 12:45am,2:40am, 6:30am, 7:30am finally 8:32am. Crap, is it going to be sunny soon? Ugh I don’t want to walk. I got out of bed, changed and headed out the door. There was a beautiful cool breeze out this morning and according to Weather.com I would have until 10:30am until the sun was out. (It’s almost 11:30am and the sun hasn’t fully come out yet! Meteorology where you can be wrong 99% of the time and yet people still look to you for advice.) I started the walk out of the drive way with very little energy or drive to walk.

I didn’t want to walk this morning as everything hurts and translates to a difficult night of sleeping. I begrudgingly walked out of the house this morning with no intentions on making it a long walk. I opened the Pokemon Go game as I have been playing it for the last three days to break up the monotony. Next thing I knew I was at the park, then walked the lake and after an hour and half later returned home after walking 4 miles. What started out as me not really wanting to walk turned into one of my longest consecutive walks. My pivot. I start my next round on July 5 and this time with a PICC in tow. I may not fully have it in me to walk or may find it more difficult to shower afterward since I would need to cover the PICC before I showered to keep it dry. Today I come home from my walk and hop in the shower, after my PICC is reinserted I’ll have to figure out how to wrap my left arm by myself before shower. The hospital type protective wraps are incredibly expensive and not covered by insurance so I’ve opted for plastic wrap.

Dr P called today, he wanted to confirm that I was still on for the PICC line on July 5th. The tele-appointment lasted all of 6 minutes I will subsequently be billed for $872 for the visit. It’s funny but also not funny. I’m not ungrateful for his call, but wish there was more information provided except a confirmation of a procedure. At this point I have no further information on transplant. It’s just a waiting game at this point. Mentally it’s where I need to focus, can I do this again? Baba Yaga reminds me that it’s going to hurt. PICC site is going to sting and pull. It’s going to me hard to sleep again. I’m going to lay on it incorrectly and the pain of the site will wake me up. This is the “mentally” strong part that I’m struggling with. I am a coward and I am afraid of the pain.