There are apparently days when having cancer just isn’t enough. The days when every little thing is annoying. When the nausea sucks. Nights when you just can’t sleep. The days you have no focus and aren’t really tired but can’t keep your eyes open, either. When every person you come across gets under your skin. Days that any other time would just be bad moments in mediocre days, but because you have cancer, it’s all amplified, and now I’m yelling at people on the road for driving like idiots. Don’t get me wrong, they probably deserve it. The difference is, though, that I don’t.
I don’t deserve cancer. I deserve a decent night’s sleep. I deserve to live the life I want, and right now I just can’t do any of the things I really like and it’s just a little maddening.
Yes, this is when the little comforts feel nice. The most basic and bland Asian cuisine is my comfort food. I grew up on celery based chow mein with egg foo young and white rice with Oolong tea. It was less about the food than it is about having a weekly dinner with my grandfather, so eating cheap Chinese food brings back those memories. I light fancy candles to remind me of my aunt’s house and all the laughter and love within. I put on my comfy sweats and my fuzzy socks and do my best to take care of me while trying to watch a movie or reading or doing a puzzle.
In these first few months I have to remind myself to be grateful. Grateful that I found this mess when I did. Grateful to have a great employer and insurance that is so far covering my treatments. Thankful to have doctors who are smart and caring and who listen. Most of all, I’m thankful for my family and friends who are going out of their way to help me through this. I’ve received some awesome gifts and care packages, cards and calls to check in on me and wish me well. There is nothing that replaces that kind of support. Please don’t stop. I know I’m late sending out thank you notes. I’ll try to do better.