Killer Friday

I went to work Friday morning, feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. My neck, back, shoulders, and skin ached (and for some reason, my calf muscles), and I was very, very tired. Yes, it would have been very easy to call in sick today, and everyone would have understood and supported that decision. So why did I go? Because I can’t just let the beast win. Ol’ Skippy still needs to know that there’s a battle raging here, and I intend to fight with all I’ve got. And that includes trying to keep life as normal as possible by going to work, lecturing my kids, and eating on a regular basis. I worked for only half a day. After all, I can only fight for so long and then I must stop.

I’ve already visited with Mr. Motrin and he’s not quite the miracle worker that he was last week. I do have stronger painkillers, but they either put me to sleep and/or make me throw up, neither of which is my favorite activity. The anti-nausea drugs that I was given on chemo day work pretty well for a couple of days. Care to guess when they wear off? Yup. So maybe Mr. Couch and Ms. Crackers will be good companions this weekend. This would be a very good weekend to have the live-in housekeeper, but all I can afford is my lazy dog to keep me company. He’s a very good napping buddy, after all, and I’m certain to be doing quite a bit of that!

Thanks for being here. I’ll try to post again later.

¶ 9:27 AM