Stupid Pneumonia

That depression that I talked about last night? Yeah. It hit. Full-bore. And I called him and made him feel guilty and that was totally NOT my intent. Seriously, the last thing I wanted was to make him feel guilty. I just didn't know who else to call. And now the guilt of how I made him feel is on my shoulders. Which just makes things worse.

I'm just so sick of these walls. And I should be happy. I heard the words I longed to hear tonight after a wonderful picnic with him by the river. It was beautiful. I really didn't want the night to end. But he said he was tired and I should rest and that was it.

Then he said that he was going out. And that's where the good feeling ended.

I appreciate that he didn't lie to me about his night. I really do. But it upsets me a little that he knew that I didn't want to be home tonight. I want to be anywhere but here.

I'm trying to hold on to the night that happened beforehand. I really am, but the walls are closing in on me. I swear. I know every crack in the wall. I know what needs painting. I know the spots in the carpet.

And, gah! I feel horrible about making Finn feel horrible. Which only makes the sadness I feel about being home that much worse. I seriously didn't mean to make him feel bad. I just needed to lash out at something and he was it. And I'm so sorry that I did that. That wasn't fair to him.

So, Finn, if you're reading...I'm sorry, baby.........

Someone Smack Me

The depression of being sick all week is setting in. I'm tired of the computer. I'm tired of the TV. A short excursion completely wears me out. How the hell am I going to work on Monday?

I am so sick of being sick. Seriously. Either kill me or move on already.

Cat's Out of the Bag

So, yesterday was good. We worked the afternoon together. He text me Happy Valentine's Day. It was all so sweet. Before I left his place in the morning, I set up two candles, a monkey, a bear and a purple leather rose. He got home and told me I was a stinker.

Dinner was on me. I went over and cooked a meal fit for a king for him. But his sugars got too low and then it got scary. As I did the best I could to stay out of his way and move everything breakable to a safe location, I sat there on the verge of tears. I couldn't do anything to help him. And it sucked.

And I realized something. I realized that despite the fact that he has a chronic illness. Despite the fact that he could go into a coma or die at any moment. Despite the fact that I don't know that we'll have tomorrow together. I am certainly falling in love with this man. And I cried when I realized that.

And I cried some more when he told me that the feeling is mutual.

I don't know what happens now. He was very upset that I had to witness that last night. And couldn't understand why I was still there when it was over. I was still there because I couldn't leave. At least not without knowing that he was OK. And then, when it was over, I started to pack up and tried to leave. I really did. But for some reason, I had the feeling that if I had walked out that door that night, I would never walk back in. And I want to get out of the habit of running away. Because I have a feeling that we've both done a lot of that in our lives.

I may not understand what happened to him last night, or what it feels like. But, he started on something about being sick all the time. I stopped him right in his tracks. I firmly told him not to go there because that I DO understand. I know what it's like to be sick all the time. To be so close to death that you can practically taste it. To wonder if you'll wake up in the morning. I know all that. So, while I don't know what it feels like to have my blood sugar drop so low to almost kill me, I do know what it's like to be sick.

I don't know what happens from here. I'm so emotionally drained today. I'm tired, but not tired. I have this nervous energy pulsing through my veins that I'm not quite sure what to do. I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him that I'm not going anywhere. I know that what happened is a really awful aspect of the disease. I just want to hold him and make it all go away. For both of us.

Decisions

It's so hard to make a decision that involves your children.

I am faced with the dilemma today of visiting with them tonight or letting them go home with Xman to rest. The Princess has been very sick this week. I had to take her to the doctor on Monday. Little Man was sick the week before. I am now getting whatever it is that they've had.

Question is, though, do I pick them up and take them out to McDonald's tonight? Do they really need to be running around on the playground?

I have nothing else going on. If I don't pick them up, I'm coming home from work and having a date with my book and bed. Maybe, possibly, quite later, hanging at a friend's for the final installment of Lord of the Rings. But I would do that regardless of whether I have the kids or not.

My mind says that I should just let them go to Xman's house for rest and that I'll see them next week when we're all better. My heart is telling me that I need to see them. Because I miss them horribly. But, then my mind tells my heart that I'm being selfish. That they need rest to get better.

This really sucks.

UGH.

Not to whine, but....OK, just a little whining to get this off my chest.

I HATE BEING SICK.

I have a combination of a minor flare and a head cold. I knew the sinus thing was coming. Yesterday, while at work, I was really dizzy and my head felt fuzzy inside. The flare, I could feel too as I felt crampy and that I wanted to throw up.

So, although I just started my job, I had to call out today. I don't need to be cutting meat while trying to choke down the puke and dripping snot.

So, today, I'm having a private pity me party. I'm cursing my body for failing me, once again. Why does my body hate itself so much? I just don't understand. And then, a sinus headache and sore throat on top of the bloatedness and pain? What the hell have I done wrong?

I know. I know. What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger, right? But, why does life have to bring us to the brink and then slowly draw us back?

Bleh. I'm going back to bed.

I Can't Believe It...

On Tuesday, October 14, I will be celebrating 90 days of being smoke free.

90 days.

I never thought that back in July, I'd be where I am now. I haven't had a smoke since the night of July 13. I'm running and walking. I'm doing tummy crunches. I'm going through a divorce. I have my shop again. And, yet, through it all, I haven't had a cigarette.

Honestly, I am amazed at myself.

And now people are calling me an inspiration.

I'm not an inspiration. I'm just doing what I have to do to make my short time on this planet a little longer and more enjoyable. It's scary enough to realize that your life may be cut short due to an illness (and the medication used to treat it), but then to realize that you can't even simply run around the yard and play with your own children is devastating.

I mean, three-quarters of the time, I'm so tired that it's a large effort to play with the kids. How fair is it to them that the 25% of the time that I feel good, I got out of breath so quickly that it wasn't worth it to play? What kind of mom was I?

Now that I'm feeling better, I take my kids to the park often. They find little friends to play with and I end up running around with a bunch of kids while the parents look on, sitting on the bench. It feels good to be the mom who gets muddy and dirty with the kids.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/cynfulfishy/2905263716/in/set-72157607358438933/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/cynfulfishy/2912485453/in/set-72157607358438933/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/cynfulfishy/2912483217/in/set-72157607358438933/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/cynfulfishy/2917948279/in/set-72157607358438933/

Oh, and as far as running? If I hadn't quit smoking, I would never see scenery like this:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/cynfulfishy/sets/72157607884420009/

Sick

I hate being sick. I should be celebrating today. My Bosox are the Division champs!

Instead, I am nursing an icky sore throat. And a stuffy nose. And aches (well, the aches could be from running yesterday).

Needless to say, I did not run this morning and this upsets me. I was really looking forward to running along the Delaware. Well, I guess on the positive spin, it's not like the river is going anywhere any time soon. Unless the world ends tonight. But, that's not supposed to happen for another four years, so I think I'm safe.

But, I've got good TV. Flipping through the channels, I stopped on ESPN. They were showing the dog pile at Fenway when the Sox made the winning run last night. That's a nice sight. And then, I land on Speed channel. Because Barrett Jackson is on. They're running highlights from Saturday's auction. First highlight?

1967 Ford Shelby Cobra Mustang. Blue with white stripes. 427 big block with a four speed. Signed by Carroll Shelby. Simply amazing. Selling price? $600,000!

Hmmm...reading the last couple of paragraphs makes me feel like such a guy! I'm so ecstatic about the Sox winning and now I'm drooling over classic cars.

I think I will put my coffee aside, crack a beer, scratch myself and watch sports and car shows.

*grunt*

Life Blows

I just read an email that my mom forwarded to me from my brother. We were thinking he dropped off the face of Mother Earth. No, turns out that he has been trying to keep my sister-in-law from dying.

From what I've read, she was diagnosed with lung cancer in late June. It was already Stage IV by the time she was diagnosed; metastasized to multiple places in her body, including her brain. They removed a brain tumor. There was a tumor on her pelvic bone so large that it fractured her pelvis. They zapped that with radiation. The cancer has attacked her lungs, adrenal glands and bone tissue. She's got another tumor growing on her femur that they need to zap, but can't as her strength is not where it needs to be for the radiation.

She's two weeks behind on starting chemo. My brother says that it'll probably be another two weeks before they start that. He said that the doctors think she may not even live that long to start the treatment she needs. If she does, they are going to admit her to the hospital to hit her with so many chemo drugs, that she could die from the side effects alone. But, they'd be doing the treatment that way because of how long it's been since they wanted to start.

But, my brother says that there is a thin ray of hope. They only gave her a 1% chance of surviving the infection she had. She's still kicking. Not hard, but she is. Right now, though, there is nothing they can do to stop the progression as they're waiting for her to regain strength. He says that she can't even roll over without any kind of help. Before they can start treatment, she needs to be able to hold herself up on her walker.

I don't pray, but I won't be stopping thinking of healing thoughts. Positive thinking, right?

I need to figure out how to get to where my brother is. I can't afford it, but I need to get there. He's my big brother. He took care of me when I was a baby. He introduced me to Led Zeppelin when I was still in diapers (he's 15 years older than me). He's 18 hours away by car. Airplane is only a couple of hours. It's not a question on how do I obtain time off from work (I'm a stay-at-home-mom), it's a question of money.

Oh, I'll get out there. Question is: will I be there in time?