Or at least, I’m not very fun. We went on a mini trip with the boys. They were absolutely joyful. Running around jumping and climbing on things, enjoying themselves. I have to force myself to engage right now, and when I do, I find it exhausting. I am trying.
We went to dinner. It was nice. The host walked by and noted we were all eating comfort food. Husband had pot roast, eldest had fried chicken and mashed potatoes, I had salmon with more mashed potatoes and youngest had pasta with butter. Can’t get more comforting than that. Our family needs comfort. There is no denying that.
There was a big party going on in the restaurant and this man stood up and gave a beautiful toast to his daughter on her fortieth birthday.
Her fortieth birthday.
And I sat there and cried a little into my mashed potatoes.
When I met the plastic surgeon last week, he smiled and said ,”Helluva Fortieth Birthday present, eh?”
Whatever, I spent my birthday in Paris and it was glorious. Breast cancer is NOT my birthday present.
But speeches like that about fortieth birthdays make me a little weepy I guess.
I am really trying hard not to feel sorry for myself.
Today was better. I’m feeling ok.
When we got home, we turned on a DVR’d episode of “The Voice” and some country western girl starts talking about how she lost her mother to breast cancer…
“FAST FORWARD!!! FAST FORWARD!!!”
And we did with a sigh of relief.
We don’t need to hear about that stuff.
I am not going to let this kill me.
And with that, I am going to link to an article sent to me by my dear friend and former roommate. It speaks volumes about how to treat a patient and their family. Please take a look if you have a chance. HERE
As always, thank you for your support throughout this difficult time.