How Quickly Time Passes

I had planned to post yesterday. But it was a total MONDAY. It was my first day back to work after the second surgery. I was up early as usual, but felt sick and tired. I was too worried about getting ready for some lessons I would be teaching to 3rd graders on finding resources. There wasn't time to get all my blog posts completed. (We had already delayed these lessons because of my surgery and I was feeling guilty that I hadn't done more than think about them during my recovery.) So I had decided I would just post when I got home from school.

Nice plan, but  it didn't quite work out. First I was surprised to find myself almost in tears once I got to school. And I have no idea why. Fortunately, I got myself under control before my first class. The nausea had finally passed.  Unfortunately, the tired feeling didn't. In fact it just got worse.

In addition to feeling tired beyond belief, I kept wondering if I looked as lopsided as I felt.  The swelling from the first surgery had not gone away before they did the second surgery.  It's sort of like walking around with a cantaloupe on one side and a grapefruit on the other side. (Sorry guys if it's TMI, but it's a fact of life for me right now.)  I'm really worried about the swelling since my BCN told me that it really needed to go down before they start radiation because radiation will cause swelling as well.  She had suggested ice or a heating pad. Well, bags of ice and the library just don't go together.  Try explaining that to a group of elementary students - Mrs. Archer - you're dripping!  If I could find a battery operated heating pad, I might be able to try heat to get the swelling down. Anyone know where you can get a battery operated heating pad?

Finally, it was the end of the day and I didn't feel like I had done much. I taught two hour- long classes on finding resources and a thirty minute class on Tomie DePaola, but I didn't shelve a book (thankfully my co-workers worked hard to keep the number of books that need shelving down to a minimum) nor did I process one book out of the stack that needs to be added to the collection.  But I made it through the day.

I had actually considered using what Kris Carr calls the "Cancer" card and calling in sick.  In her book she devotes a whole chapter to when you can and can't get away with swiping the card. My problem is that sometimes I still think that my cancer is so innocent I have no right to complain, much less swipe the card. (Though there have been a few things I would have loved to have gotten out of if I'd just been bold enough to try.)  And then of course there's that whole I want to get back to normal as fast as I can mentality, so of course that's why I headed off to school anyway. And though it kicked my butt, I'm actually glad I did.

The day finally ended. I got home and then had to tell my family that it was leftovers or fend for yourself night because I had forgotten to take anything out to thaw. (I had also left the house that morning without taking my tamoxifen so I ended up taking it in the evening instead of the morning.)  I was so tired when I sat down on the couch I couldn't even keep my eyes open wide enough to read. (Those of you who know me, know that's unusual.) I would have just gone to bed, but I had some prep to do for today's classes (that didn't get done either, thank goodness for today's snow day) and Patrick needed help getting his application submitted for the Rocky Mountain Avon Walk for Breast Cancer.  At 10:00 p.m. we were still waiting for the email to go through and of course I finally crashed on the couch watching Murder She Wrote. I didn't wake up until 3:00 a.m. when I finally crawled into bed, only to be awakened sometime after 4 with a text about the school closing.

So what does all this rambling have to do about the passage of time?  Around 5:30 a.m. this morning I realized that snow day or not, exhaustion or not, my body is used to getting up at this time - not to mention that the dogs needed to go out as well. So I got up, poured a cup of coffee and turned on the news.  As I was doing my usual morning surf of the blogs I follow, I was only half listening to the news when I heard a reporter comment that it had been a month since Rep. Giffords was shot. (And that reminded me that my troubles are nothing compared to what she and the others on that horrible day have had to endure.) It also reminded me that Monday was the one month anniversary of my first surgery.  There's been a lot that has happened in one month: two surgeries, a week and a half of being terrified I'd have to go through chemo, a few snow days, an appointment with the medical oncologist, a book signing, super bowl, school, registration for three walks, and brain storming for fundraising ideas and probably things I have forgotten.

It's only been a month. Healing takes time. No wonder I am tired. I was tired before all of this began.  If anyone else told me that they felt like a wimp because they were tired a week after having a second surgery, I would have told them to cut themselves some slack. So maybe I should cut myself some slack. Not sure that will actually happen - I tend to be a little tough on myself - but it's worth considering.