Strange musings

The cicadas trilled their night-time song, my family cavorted through dreamland and I laid obstinately awake, shuffling my aching legs and contemplating life last night. Oh, I fell asleep, but the midnight hour poked me back to consciousness.

I'm blaming the decision not to take my anti-anxiety medication at bedtime for my mind foray. For when the half pill I did take at 12:30 a.m., along with the sweet, red Tylenol pill, took effect around 1:30, I too slipped into delicious sleep - for about five hours.

Unfortunately, the effects of my night are imprinted on my face, for Michael commented on my less-than-rested appearance this morning.

I'm amazed the twisted paths my mind travels sometimes. Last night, as I yearned for sleep, they wove an odd pattern in my consciousness. I must warn you, these colourful musings may be disjointed and a bit philosophical.

I know I have a singular purpose of healing these days, but I miss the hectic, multi-purpose, busy lifestyle I used to live. I miss being normal. I miss stupid things like caring about my appearance (choosing nice clothes, doing my hair and makeup, wearing earrings). Don't get me wrong, in some ways I like the streamlined preparation, but I miss the ability (and reasons to) look nicer.

Last night, my mind also acknowledged activity breeds more activity. As a worker bee, I used to get a lot done. I was a go-to person who would pick up the ball and run with it. Many days, that ball sits on the sidelines waiting for me to summon up the energy to grasp it. As a result, a multitude of activities I'd like to accomplish, don't get done. But luckily, I'm better at accepting this temporary limitation - most days.

I also feel my body weakening due to lack of activity. I've always been strong. My linebacker physiology, physical lifestyle and killer calves contributed to keeping me that way. But this cancer, treatment and lack of exercise has kicked me to the curb. I can start limited exercise again, but I have to be careful. I know, I have to be patient and I have the rest of my life to get back in shape, but this is a weird and uncomfortable feeling for me.

A very strange analogy about my current state of life flitted through my mind last night. One, I'm determined to change today as I gain strength and health.

I feel on some days, I'm little more than a shadow floating inconsequentially, making little mark on the canvas of life. The artist creates water-muted images, which lack the vibrance necessary to evoke a satisfactory response.

But my thoughts came full circle to realize that while I may sometimes feel without much substance because I'm mired in a hazy reality, I'm pivitol to some very important people. As the fog fades, I need to climb out and become engaged again. My chemo-induced impressions of my impact and importance bear little correlation to reality.

I suspect the pigments of my life paint will brighten considerably during the next few days as I recover and become more active. But also because I choose to matter more.

Everyone lives at the core of someone else's existence. We all matter to other humans, who counts on us for love, friendship, companionship, guidance and hope. I came to that re-realization in the early morning hours and plan to take advantage of the time I have with others before my next chemotherapy session - and then beyond treatments.

I warned you these ramblings would be a bit strange. My mind sometimes works in wonderous ways.

As a final note, I want to say thank you to everyone who responded to my blog yesterday. Your comments touched my heart and made me cry. I'm very lucky.

Enjoy the sunshine and remember, you matter.
Tina