Feeling better today. Even went to see an IMAX show - Whales - with Pete and the girls. While I was sitting in the theatre, eating popcorn and smiling at Frances, I thought, "do I really have cancer?"
I'm not so fond of these in-between moments. While I'm in the throes of nausea or getting injected with something, or scanned for something else, I'm in it. I'm there. I'm cancer girl. But washing a pot or picking up a pair of socks to toss in the laundry, it all seems so distant and unreal.
I try to wish the tumours smaller and sit at my meditation table to worry it all away, but I get up and realize that it could all still turn sideways on me, despite my focus. I should be happy I'm not puking or haven't developed an allergic reaction, or yet pulling wads of hair out, but it's all going to catch up to me soon. I'm still so early in the process.
But for now, I'll sit here, watching TV on a Sunday night for the first time in forever. Eating blueberries. Wondering if I'll feel well enough tomorrow to throw aside the cancer girl persona and do the wash or otherwise make myself useful to this house.