I hate when I can't find the time to do things I love. Writing, taking pictures, sleeping...it all would be so nice. What is even more crazy is that I only work 15 hours a week. How can I not find time? Oh, well, I guess I should take that back. My first job is 15 hours a week, my second one, which is at night, would run another 6-10 hours depending on the week. But, that is over until the fall.
I will say though that things have been busy around here. We have started the process of the addition for my mom to move in. In the past 3 weeks, we have torn down the garage, and watched with awe as they came in with large motorized things and tore up the cement from the garage and dug and dug and dug, then poured footings, the cement wall, and finished up with 19 truck loads of sand to back fill. 19. I kind of feel like we live at the beach with all of the sand that's around. Well, without a body of water. Or shells. Oh hell.....it's nothing like being at the beach. It's pretty much like having an extra large sandbox. Or litter box. Either one.
So along with construction, I have been spending time getting stuff at my mom's house packed up. No small task. I put my foot down when it came to all of the bedsheets she had. I asked her how many sheets she wanted to keep for the spare bed. She said 6 sets. I said she could keep 2. And so on and so on. We are so lucky to have the relationship that we have. I think for many this would be something that would put a big strain on a relationship. We are blessed.
I took my mom to her second infusion of Remicade this past Monday. It's a long process. We got there at 10 and the infusion started at about 11:00am. It takes about an hour and a half. We stayed in the private infusion room. From the moment we walked in the door, I had a sinking feeling. The infusion room we were in was the room where I had my first chemo. It was a horrible experience. My port wasn't working well, it hurt, and just it being the first treatment made it a very nerve racking experience. As the day progressed and actually into the night, I just got crabbier and crabbier. I didn't really know why, until it came to me late that night. I sat in that room facing the office of my first oncologist, looking at the back of her head for most of the time we were there. As it turns out, I still harbor some unpleasant feelings towards that doctor. In my mind I thought about what I would say to her if she talked to me (which she didn't), I thought about all the feelings I had when she told me that I probably wouldn't make it more than 5 years. I thought about my girls not growing up with a mom. Ugh. I just boiled even more when I finally figured out why I was so crabby that night. Why is it so hard to just set myself free from all of that hatred? Why can't I just say it was what it was, and move on? Maybe I will never be at that point. Is that ok? I have no idea. I want to tell myself to just let it go, but then I think about all the people that were affected by what I was told by this doctor. I think about the phone calls I had to make to tell friends and family that the cancer had returned, and it didn't look good. I think about telling Dion that he could re-marry, just not anyone too high maintenance. I think about digging frantically in our safe for my life insurance policy, so financially he would have a little something extra to raise our kids. Ok, I have to stop. I guess it will be quite some time before it does not make my blood boil. And maybe that's ok. In the long run, because of that doctor, I ended up with an oncologist that I love who does the research and gives me honest opinions and who, unlike my other one, can laugh. That is important to me. I met amazing cancer survivors and remained friends with some of them. So, I guess I owe that doctor a thanks. Thanks for telling me that I was dying so I could go get a second opinion which led me to my current oncologist with whom I wouldn't trade for anything.
So there. That's what has been going on around here. Oh, and also, I have 3 more days of work and then I am off for the summer. The first time in about 20 years. I'm not sure what the heck I am going to do. That is territory I haven't covered in many many years. I'm think the girls and I will be hitting the pool many times. Sweet. Plus the whole remodel and such. It will be a summer to remember.