Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

I didn’t roll out of bed until close to 11:45am. I chatted on the phone catching up with a friend and did absolutely nothing. I drank some clear broth and sat in the couch doing a whole lot of nothing. I wasted my time today watching dog videos on instagram and I’m not feeling one way or another about it.

My patience was tested to the limit, and it’s all because of those darn test results. You know, the kind that makes your stomach do somersaults and your mind race a mile a minute. Yup, that’s what I’m talking about. The waiting game has begun. I find myself sitting here, waiting on those biopsy results, and the anxiety is overwhelming. It’s like a cloud of uncertainty that refuses to dissipate.

The worst part is the uncertainty. Not knowing what’s going on inside my body is maddening. I find myself Googling symptoms and survival rates, which only fuels my anxiety more. I wish I could stop, but the need for information is just too strong. I’m trying my best to keep busy and stay positive, but it’s easier said than done. All I can do now is wait and hope for the best. I’ll keep reminding myself that no matter the outcome, I have the support of friends and family. And until that call comes, I’ll take it one breath at a time.

First of those breaths is managing the nausea. I should have absolutely switched out the scopolamine patch on Monday instead of waiting until today. The nausea is on hit today. I’m now chasing the discomfort big time. Taking lots of deep breaths pushing through each rolling wave of it.

When I look at this exchange I can only mildly shake my head. I’m fighting to survive this cancer. Currently trying to stave off to wicked nausea – not only do I not care about your work question but this isn’t my problem or responsibility. You assumed wrong. You assumed that I care about your work issue. You assumed that I was going to offer you a solution. Nope. I don’t care. Not one little bit. More and more I’m wondering about this rat race that I’ve been in. What’s the point of it? To give my children a better life? Am I? Am I truly doing right by them? Or are they getting a more materialistic childhood than I had.

I may not have walked 10 miles in the snow uphill both ways to school. But I certainly walked close to two miles to elementary school whereas my children barely walk 3 blocks. I grew up with the milk carton children and certainly knew the stretch of road that I felt was sketchy as hell and beat feet to walk through. But is removing all these hardships truly a better life for my children? Is always putting on their masks the right thing to do? As babies and toddlers – I felt it was absolutely necessary to protect them from everything and I never questioned it. Not even for a moment. Nope when my baby cried, I picked them up and held them. I didn’t care if there were “cry it out methods” – not for me. I was on the spot to hold my babies. But now as they get into the double digits – I am questioning my “do everything, get everything for them methods” as I feel it no longer serves them in the long run. But with both parents actively in the rat race – how do I give you more? And what is the more? Cause it certainly isn’t more stuff. More camping. More together. I feel like that is the meaning of more. No one wants to screw up their children and not give them all the support, time and attention they need. But can I…can we do that in the rat race?