I’ve always heard of people struggling with insomnia or sleep deprivation but never struggled myself so couldn’t relate. FFW to today and boy do I know how real the struggle is. I’m writing this blog with tears rolling down my cheeks from total exhaustion. This is not how I thought crying myself to sleep would go. Nothing seems to help in short periods, but instead hours. My good ol reliable sleeping pill Zopiclone isn’t even doing the trick. I realized I haven’t written in nearly a month and I usually write late so here we are. Long overdue sleep & long overdue writing may do the trick, but hopefully just to me and not you!
As my healing journey continues some days I’m up and others I’m down. The up days can be the hardest though, as they trick you in to thinking you can do more. Uncle Pete's service was last week and hands down the biggest outing yet physically and emotionally since leaving the hospital. Clearly not the reason why I wanted to be out & catching up with loved ones, but I owned it. I dressed to impress as that’s exactly what P would have done for me. I didn’t want to take away from the man who gave so much, so I medicated myself more than usual knowing I’d be up/down/sitting/crying...the list continues. I wore a dress that hid Winnie and my swelling, using my cane only in certain situations. It was a perfect goodbye but I’m reminded of him daily with one of his creations in my room & a bracelet I wear often. He will be missed by many, but how proud he must be of his legacy.
A long time back I spoke of struggling to know what legacy I’d leave behind. To not have become a mother which is most women’s way of leaving legacy, however not mine. Firstly how cute would they had been pending the mythical fathers genetics. Where is he anyway, like showup anytime now lol . A girl would have been named Marnie Monica Nita after all my grans ‘n nans. And Fraser Norman Grant honouring my pops, grandfather & my dad. I never froze my eggs during cancer because I accepted what was showing itself. Infertility & maturity. Had I done so they’d still be waiting since I’m on round 2. Ain’t no way I say yay at 50. So instead my future fur babies will get the honours and birth announcement as we deserve to make the fridge like you did mine. A photo shows joy for a new buddy be it human or fur. Simba seems to want to live forever so could be a while yet till you get my latest post in mail! I don’t weep at not being a mother but I do think about not carrying on some history on the tree. Common Shane pucker up, just don't steal my names! But how do I look at legacy not involving DNA? That is my next thing to sort out and I’m hoping it’ll be via ostomy awareness which really is a cool anatomy lesson.
Parts of my old life like driving my car, are starting again. I’ve been cleared to go for walks but still no heavy lifting or any form of struggle I can’t take physically or emotionally. It’s hard to have been on mostly bed rest up till now. It’s time to start with walks. A little longer each time to help my physical healing. My GI ordered blood work to make sure my Crohn’s is being treated properly and showed some low vitamin levels such as B12 so I’ll be adding supplements to my routine.
Plastics will see me again next month but all seems to be healing as predicted. Another minor surgery in 6 months or so to finish it all up. Overall my swelling has started to go down again as it was stagnant for a while. Wearing socks left marks, my ankles more like kankles! We’re sorting out meds which may have played a role. Healing has so many hills I never really expected it to be so hard. Saying you have a long road ahead is a lot easier than living it but I’m doing my best.
Full disclosure I fell asleep writing this around paragraph 3 but woke up early to finish. I’m still tired but no sense sleeping now and struggling again tonight. Instead I think I’ll give Winnie her first bath, mop my floors and head out for a walk this afternoon. Sounds like a few steps (literally) in the right direction.
XOXO
C
#carly2conquercancer
#winniethepouch
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