Scheduled Outages
The sequence of how I feel after chemo is bizarre. It’s even more bizarre how predictible it is.
The first day, Monday, when I get home I’m loopy from ativan. The next few days I feel kind of tired and kind of brain dead but basically okay.
I have a huge crash in energy after the good meds wear off. On Saturday I feel like I have lead weights strapped to my body and my bones are rubber. I can’t think my way through putting a DVD in the computer or asking my boyfriend to hook up the VCR.
Sunday I feel a bit like that, a bit more bored, and start to feel achey. (This time I started to panic because we have a vacation starting today. I had to remind myself of the sequence last time. I was totally fine by the time we traveled.)
Monday I really should not drive but I do anyway, because I am getting away with murder already for telecommuting. Tuesday I try to get caught up on all the “hard” stuff involving thought, at work.
Wednesday (today) I feel better so I leave work, get on a plane, and fly somewhere, risking germies and wearing myself out. And having a great time.
I feel a bit guilty about charging them for the time I can’t think, then going on vacation when I feel better. This is why, when a coworker asked where I’m going, I skipped all the “music festival, camping, hippies with toddlers, laying hens in the henhouse next to the tent”. I only mentioned the “seeing relatives I have not seen since the 70s. Gosh I hope they are over all the bad feelings. We are too old… blah blah blah life is too short blah blah blah…”
Yeah… tomorrow night we’re having dinner with our camping companions, as well as my half sister and half brother that I’ve not seen since the 70s, and my half brother that I have seen since the 70s, and perhaps my half twin (three weeks younger than me) that I learned about in the 00s, if he can make it. And assorted wives and husbands.
Since we have no funerals in my family apparently, and since my mom always told me dad’s family hated us, I sort of lost touch with these half siblings. I knew them as a small child. Well, except the half twin. I wonder how they got the older ones to not mention him to me ever…. it’s possible I just didn’t notice and they did. Anyway. Should be interesting.
They all saw my dad in the last years of his life. My mom talked me out of going to see him, making it seem it would be a betrayal of her, and also a nasty experience. And since we were not that into family anyway I just took the easy way out and did nothing.
Holy crap. This should be interesting. Your mom’s manipulation is a majorly hideous example of what happens in so many divorce situations where the woman ends up with complete control of the kids. ACK. Unfortunately I think a lot of men just give up – not because they don’t want contact with their kids – but because it’s too hard & painful to deal with the emasculation factor.
I hope you have a fantabulous wonderful time in hippie-dippieville.
That is exactly what I think happened with my dad. My mom did not allow him to see his kids from the first family very much. Why would he be interested in setting himself up for that kind of pain again? So he was never that interested in us. It seemed like the only one he had a real relationship with was his oldest son (who is only 8 years younger than my mom.) It’s fascinating to hear him tell stories of our dad.
Hippie-dippieville was wonderful, as usual. Here’s to many more years of going to that festival.
I’d comment on the screwed up family issues, but from where I sit I don’t have a lot of room to say anything. (Except perhaps in sympathy.)
But… a three week younger half twin? Was there a missing chapter in my study of biology?
Enjoy the vacation! Take a day for me, willya?
He has the same dad, but a different mom. He has three older full siblings by that mom, who was my dad’s first wife. My mom was my dad’s second wife. Apparently he was not done with the first. However, thanks to a quickie Mexican divorce and Vegas marriage, the only bastard was my dad.
Mom proceeded to drive away that part of the family and hide the existence of my younger half brother. I found out he existed when we were 37, and that he was really my brother at age 41. (Yeah, my mom told me their mom was lying, when I was 37. This guy is the spitting image of my dad btw.)
Er. Does that clear it up at *all*?