I woke up around 6:15 this morning to the whir of of our pre-programmed coffee grinder, which is a wonderful way to wake up. As soon as I heard the beep signaling a fresh pot of hot coffee was ready, I headed downstairs for a cup and a scan of Facebook before anyone else woke up (I love the quiet in the mornings). Sitting on the couch, scrolling through my newsfeed, I saw the following from our local newspaper: Winter weather advisory for Monday night into Tuesday morning.
Knowing Charleston as I do, school closures (and, in turn, preschool closures) were on the horizon. I texted our responsible neighborhood teenager to lock in a contingency plan and to hopefully call dibs before anyone else had the same thought. I think that I said "if for some crazy reason schools are closed, can you please babysit. I have my first chemo treatment tomorrow morning." She responded almost immediately with a "yes, if there is no school, I will be there."
Also called the oncologist office, "what is your policy for weather-related closures." The receptionist said that they were open last year during the Great Freakout of 2014 when all bridges in Charleston were closed due to "ice" so she saw no reason why they would not be open tomorrow. Ok. Great. Plan in place (I am a planner, you know).
Day goes on, and I am on a call at 2:30pm trying to figure out some insurance information with my company's benefits consultant, and Mike opens my office door holding a note "Schools are already closed for tomorrow." I just smiled and laughed to myself. Here's the thing, the temperature is not going to dip below freezing at any point between today and tomorrow. Yes, I know that bridges ice before roads, but temperature is a pretty key factor in any kind of ice situation.
So, we have a babysitter for my first chemo treatment. How's that for a twist? Had aforementioned responsible teenager not been available, we would have worked neighbors and friends for a potential drop off, but this works out well. Henry will be waiting for us at home after we get back from my first treatment. I will love getting a hug from him as soon as I walk in the door.
As a friend said to me recently, "cancer is one more thing to add to your plate. You are already a mom, wife, sister, daughter, worker, friend." I am also a master at logistics and contingency plans. Forgive the ego, but I can recognize a strength.
Made it to the gym tonight. I could not row or do any upper body weights, but it felt so good to go. I am partially recovered from my surgery but am under strict orders to not even think about rowing or doing any upper body work for a little while longer. That's ok. My upper body is getting enough attention as it is...way more than I ever wished upon it. My legs are going to be sore though. While others were doing upper body work, I was doing leg work. Ouch.
I have reconnected with some old friends lately, and it feels so good to have them back in my life. As I said to one, I am sorry that cancer has brought us back together, but I am glad that we are back in touch. A bright side to this disease if there ever was one.
I am a bundle of nerves about tomorrow. Fear of the unknown I think. Will it feel strange to have bright red (one of the meds) toxic chemicals coursing through my veins? Will I immediately feel different? I am sure that I won't, but the question remains until I am there tomorrow. Though I am nervous, I am ready. Ready for this medicine to start killing the cancer cells in my body. Ready to move through the plan and work my way to the other side of this nightmare.
Part of a work email that I received from someone outside of my organization today said "I hope that your 2015 is off to a great start!!" I can laugh at the irony of that well-meaning email. My 2015 is off to a start, but I wouldn't necessarily use the word "great" to describe it. It's been an interesting year so far, and one that we will look back on one day and remember as a life-changing year.
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