Another Dream Dies

Warning: This is a Moody, Moody Blog. I have tried for days not to write it. I don't want to blog constantly with gloom and doom or bad news. I want to be happy. I really do. I try so hard ... but my sorrow tonight is so deep that I feel compelled to write about it.

I violated the rules of the universe this week: I made a giant wish. I don't usually dream big or count on things before they materialize, but I indulged myself in premature happiness over something that hadn't happened yet but looked like it could at any moment. As I tenderly carried it home in my heart, the bottom fell out like a soggy grocery bag and I watched it shatter on the sidewalk, all of its delicate pieces splattering onto the grass around me while I clutched the empty bag and gazed in horror. I fell to my knees to salvage some of it, but there was no piece left that was large enough to hold in my hand. It's gone. Not going to happen. Guess that's what I get for dreaming, huh? Now I'm just feeling stupid for ever even thinking it might have happened. I should have known better than to get my hopes up like that. But I think I just needed something happy to cling to in these difficult days ...

There's no health news that anyone wants to hear. I'm sick, I feel terrible, and I have barely enough strength in my legs to transfer from chair to bed, etc. My hair is coming out; I don't how much I'll lose from the one treatment. I have no tolerance for cold. Every time I vomit I pee all over myself because my bladder is out of whack from the UTI. I can't stand the thought of food, and when I do try to eat the terrible taste in my mouth makes the food strange and unappetizing. The only food I can keep down reliably is chicken broth with a few crackers in it, and I'm so tired of it that I never want to see chicken broth again. I'll never get my strength back at this rate! And how can I even think about getting back into the battle like this? I can't say to the enemy: "Give me a minute! I'm hobbling back onto the battlefield as fast as I can!" The cancer is probably having a field day, happily dividing new cells left and right in my weakened body -- UNLESS the chemo is working, maybe just a smidge?

My faithful blog readers, callers, and visitors who come to the house to see me in my infamous lift chair wearing my big old gown all want to hear me say that I'm feeling great. It makes me happy that there are so many people rooting for me and praying for me. I want it, too! I want to wake up one morning with the birds singing and realize that I feel human again. I want to sit outside in my jazzy on a warm spring day and let the breeze wash over my tired body and soul.

I promise all of you that I am crawling out of this hole as fast as I can. Spring is coming and I won't let cancer rob me of the joy that it brings. Yellow daffodils in little clusters. Tiny buds on the trees that have stood naked in the shivering cold all winter. Bushes that bloom. Green grass where the brown crunchy stuff was. Caterpillars that become butterflies. So much joy. So much hope. So much life.

It's a lovely dream that I hope to actually hold in my hands very soon.

:-) Sharon