A Little Overwhelmed

It's been a few days since I blogged, and it's been quite a while since I blogged about what was really going on with our family. For the most part, we are doing okay. My children don't get sick so we have missed most of that excitement that other families seem to be experiencing in abundance this winter. I mean, they really don't get sick. Eli has run a fever only a handful of times and has NEVER had an ear infection. Phoebe is "snotty" most of the time due to allergies, but she's only had one virus and one ear infection. It's a strange little blessing that I don't quite understand. Sometimes I think we are being spared because of all my stuff, but in my weaker moments I would sacrifice my children to an ear infection or the flu if it meant my tumors would be gone. However, it's a blessing nonetheless. Brad might trully be overwhelmed if the children did get sick...he feels like a single parent a lot of the time anyway. A mom who doesn't have the energy to do squat is pretty useless to someone who is worn out from his own stressful, busy day at work.

I finally heard from my doctor in Boston. We comforted ourselves with the fact that if something had been really, really concerning, the doctor would have called us way sooner than a month after the scans were done. My tumors haven't grown any, although it looks like they haven't shrunk too much, either. They still don't know what the thing in my lung is, but as long as it doesn't cause any pain or get any bigger, they aren't going to worry about it too much. They want me to stay on the Gleevec at the same doseage for three more months and then do another CT scan in early April. Things are fine. The day we heard from him was actually pretty hard for me emotionally because I didn't want to hear that things were fine, I wanted to hear that they were great. After almost ten months of being on Gleevec, I get a little mired down in what is our life instead of what I think it should be. Some days I feel mostly normal and some days I feel like I'm 80 years old. Most days I take some form of pain killer (either over the counter or prescription) and wonder if I am ruining what is left of my liver just to feel a little normal. Then I realize that I would rather have fewer days feeling good than a lifetime of feeling bad. Maybe that is part of the problem. Being on Gleevec is a long-haul experience. It's not radiation and hard-core chemo and visits with doctors every day with an end in sight. There is no light at the end of my tunnel. It's getting up every day and feeling like half a wife, half a mom, half a friend while the other half is being sucked dry by the little orange pill I take every night. And through all of this, I pretend everything is normal. I do normal things and get frustrated with myself and others when we can't understand that everything is not normal. My skin is so irritated it hurts to smile, I have no reserve energy, my legs swell, I'm anxious, I don't sleep well, I have a headache everyday, I just don't feel right. Yesterday and today are excellent examples. Today is Tuesday and I should be at KU, going on the fire station field trip with my son. Instead, I'm at home, in my pajamas, doped up on hydrocodone because my joints have seized up. It started yesterday and after going to Wal-Mart for groceries, I got them inside and then couldn't put them up because I couldn't bend over with my back clenching and my hips not working. So, I got in bed on the heating pad and never got up. Eli helped me like he should never have to by picking Phoebe up and putting her on my bed, bringing me diapers, getting her bottle, putting her back on the floor, bringing her toys. I shut us all in my room because it was easier to let Phoebe crawl around and play in one room than the whole house and I could keep Eli out of trouble by watching "Pollyanna" and "The Parent Trap" on the Hallmark channel. It probably wouldn't have been such a problem except that my house is trashed. I don't mean a little cluttered like most houses with little children. I mean A WRECK. Mostly because we went to Abilene this weekend and I didn't unpack yesterday like I meant to. Eli has been living out of his suitcase and instead of leaving everything in the suitcase when I tell him to go get something out, he throws it all over the room. (At least, he can follow directions!) Phoebe is no help because she is the "unloadingest" girl I have ever seen! She spends her entire day unloading stuff...my diaper bag, Eli's toy in his baskets, laundry, groceries, her toys in her baskets, suitcases, drawers. Anything that is contained in something else she feels it is her duty to take it out and leave it all over the house. It makes for really big messes that while easy to pick up, make my house look like we have been robbed because it hurts to bend over and pick it up. Unfortuneatly, it makes me feel even more overwhelmed. I get a little crazy when my house is chaos. It literally affects my emotions and makes me depressed when it's like this. I am soooo not a clean freak...in fact, I hate to clean. But, I do like things to be in some semblance of order. (It might have something to do with the fact that I am a closet control freak.) This is on top of all the things I feel like I should be doing. I really, really need to get the invitations to Phoebe's family birthday party out so that people will actually come because they have some advance notice. I am making these invitations, no less. I have a HUGE craft project that I have to get done quickly. (I can't go into details here because it is for someone that reads this blog, and since it is a gift I HAVE to get it done. This person deserves it even if I feel cruddy...there is no excuse!) My Christmas dishes really need to get put up. Brad tells me they are really winter dishes since they are red with white snowflakes, but I still feel like they should be put away. Then there are all the other things like dishes and laundry and feeding my children that have to be done, as well. Brad picks up the slack the best he can and gets the important things done like dinner and baths and books and hugs while I lie on a heating pad feeling guilty and worrying about all the unimportant things like clean houses and birthday invitations. I know that I have people here who would come over in a heartbeat and help. They would clean my house and run my errands and fold my laundry and take care of my children, but I won't let them. It's not because I'm too proud to ask for help (although I probably am), but because I honestly feel if I could just let go of what I expect of myself and the things I think I have to get done, then I wouldn't feel so horrible about not getting it done. Secretly, I have always looked down on the stay-at-home mom who couldn't get it "all" done...who couldn't volunteer in the Children's Ministry, and cook dinner for her family every night, and keep up with her laundry, and take dinner to all her sick friends, and plan really great birthday parties for her children, and go to playgroup, and make her husband feel loved and appreciated, and be a vital member of a Bible study, and on and on and on. I always considered them "flaky" or "not really trying hard enough." Maybe that is really my problem. Maybe I fear becoming the person of whom I have always been judgemental. By the way, that was a really deep thought and not where I had intended this blog to go! I really did just want you to know that our little family is fine and I am just feeling a little overwhelmed...just a brief explanation to all my friends about why they haven't seen or heard from me in a few days. I guess you all got more than you expected and I didn't really keep it brief, either. Way to go for making it all the way to end of this VERY LONG blog. Thanks.