Still Swimming

Things are in motion and going pretty well. Our packing is coming along nicely, we bought a sofa and loveseat to be delivered on the day we move into the new house, and we’reĀ  in the midst of moving all of our utility accounts over. That will all likely be finished this week.

Jack is hanging in there. He’s got some aches and pains but if you didn’t know him, you’d probably be surprised to hear that he is fighting cancer. I notice his thinner frame and knobbier knees, his dry skin, the shadows under his eyes, the shorter temper…but I’m his mom. I can’t help myself from tracking cancer symptoms, possible side effects, making note of his weight loss at the clinic…

But I’ve worn myself out and it’s becoming obvious to others. Aside from a recent incident where I forgot to include one of Jack’s medications in the bag that I gave to his dad when we had our exchange, I also – for the first time ever – started driving the car without having buckled Jack into his booster seat! We didn’t make it too far down the road before Jack panicked over his freedom in the backseat and I pulled over. Ugh, I hate that I’m letting things slip like that. My memory is even more useless than it was before any of this started. David is getting sick of me asking the same question over and over again…and I hardly know what day it is at any given time (although Monday still manages to slap me in the face – you just can’t forget it’s Monday…).

Clearly it’s time for that LOA. Nine days until that starts!

I’m thankful we have five months of Jack’s treatments behind us. There is so much less fear in me now. There is a lot less worry than there was in the beginning. I’m seeing that Jack is doing incredibly well under the circumstances, and that is reassuring!

The decreased levels of fear and constant worry have made room for chronic fatigue and depression. I don’t want to get out of bed in the morning. I don’t want to go to work. Going out of the house for something as simple as looking at a few couches takes all of my energy. I’ve suddenly turned into an introvert; having a conversation with someone outside of my immediate family or super close friends wipes me out. I suppose that’s because I feel so braindead that anytime someone asks me a question, I have an urge to reply, “My kid has cancer.” Total buzz kill, ya know.

At least we are getting our house. I’m looking forward to that. It’s one thing to hibernate, but to do it in a place you love makes it a lot better!

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Comments

  1. i hope for lots of time to rest and get some restoration for you. if it makes you feel any better, I have left J unbuckled at least half a dozen times, most recently twice in the last year or so. It’s an easy mistake to make! Don’t beat yourself up for it, it’s actually I think common to do once they get into booster seat mode cuz they are so independent (getting in and often closing the car door themselves) you forget you need to actually still buckle them. I know the feeling about being drained by anyone outside of immediate family. please take it easy, we all have an emotional capacity budget (only so many people you are able to deal with each week) and yours might be tightening up a bit. You are an awesome mom!

  2. I can’t even begin to imagine the amount of stress and fear and terror you have experienced since Jack’s diagnosis….but coming down from it with fatigue and depression makes sense to me. I’m sure the LOA will help with some of that.

    Sending a lot of love and prayers your way.

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