Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

One day at a time…

Morphine Haze

The last day and a half have been a relentless battle against pain and nausea. It feels as if I’ve been trapped in a never-ending cycle of discomfort and despair. The day was a blur, a haze of morphine that provided fleeting moments of relief but left me feeling disconnected from reality. I drifted in and out of consciousness, unable to grasp the passage of time. The world outside my hospital room seemed distant, a place where life continued without me.

Chemo was scheduled for today, but I was in no condition to be aware of it, let alone endure its effects. The day unfolded without my conscious presence, and for that, I’m oddly grateful. The less I knew about the pain and suffering, the better. I find myself gradually emerging from the fog of medication. The pain is still present, but it’s dulled by the morphine, and the relentless waves of nausea have subsided, at least for the moment. It’s a cruel irony that even in the midst of a battle against cancer, I have to fight against the side effects of the very treatment meant to save me.

As I become more lucid, I’m filled with a strange mix of emotions. There’s frustration at my own vulnerability and the countless uncertainties that lie ahead.

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About Me

Hello, my name is Nina. I am a mother, wife, daughter and friend. I am lover of country music, & 80’s love ballad. I love me some karaoke! I identify as hot mess mom. I get it wrong, all the time. On the rare occasions I get it right? Even I’m shocked.

I am a working professional in the field of Compliance. I am mother two, daughter to immigrant parents, wife to a “redneck” – and proud of it, sister-in-law to the two most incredible human beings I have ever met and a niece that is just so cool but doesn’t know it.

I work too hard and play too little. I’ve always focus on the wrong thing and never quite sure if I’m ever enough. I grew up on the East Coast and was a latchkey kid in the 80’s and 90’s – I dodged the sketchy people on the walk home and tried not to end up on a milk carton.

I went to a very privileged Boarding School on the East Coast and college after that. (So yeah that’s exactly why this journal will be riddled with grammatical and spelling errors. On the days I feel good, I’ll type it out. On the days I don’t feel good it’ll be voice to text. I can not be held liable for the things Siri puts in as my “voice”. ) Graduated on a Friday and started Fleet Bank on a Saturday. I hustled my way through the midnight shift at DHL and hustled and hustled and hustled. I knew nothing except the hustle. (As I said, I’m a hot mess mom).

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