Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

Last night wasn’t the easiest of sleep, beyond peeing every 10 minutes which is never fun as I have to unplug Dave and roll his butt to the bathroom and then plug him back in. My coordination at that hour isn’t exactly gazelle like. My picc site is also starting to get itchy – here we go again. Hope there is something to make it better but it is what it is sometimes. J left early and I was pretty open about how I felt. I asked him that if his cup is empty – does he just come here to sleep on an uncomfortable recliner couch? Because if that’s the point, this seems counterproductive. I thought him going home allowed him to recharge but if he comes back to me, and he’s completely empty – aren’t I still just alone all day long? I don’t text him when I’m feeling sick, or sad or anything. I leave it all to myself. It’s not that I’m looking to unload any suffering during the day to him at the end of the day – but am looking for some light conversation where we can laugh and there are moments of forgetting the state I’m in. Maybe I’m asking too much. I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like a lot to talk about crazy drivers on the road, a gonorrhea billboard on 605…anything for a laugh. Fart jokes. Anything. Instead he stayed here and said all of 4 things to me. I felt lonelier than when I am physically alone in this room by myself.

Day 3 of Chemo. We’ve gotten off to an good start and stayed on target. Pills and Etoposide down, next one is hanging then 3.5 hour break before Cytarabine…my nemesis. I ate a container of dragon fruit that J brought over two nights ago for breakfast. I ordered an omelet but haven’t eaten it yet as I’m feeling a little bit nauseous.

I have my Charlie on the brain lately.