Or as I like to say don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out, ’13. I’ve stopped greeting each new year with “it has to be better than last year”. Actually I never did that until the end of 2011, again in 2012 and now .. well you get the picture. Apparently the universe likes messing with me so I am keeping my hopes for the new year to myself. I won’t write 2013 off completely. It did bring the amazing gift of my first grandson and I’ve surprised myself with things I can handle that I never in a million years thought I could or would ever have to.
They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I say what didn’t kill me makes me want to mess someone up. Unfortunately there is no one to blame for any of it. It’s just life and you know none of us are getting out of this alive.
And so did my misguided sense that I would escape all the unpleasantness of chemo. New Year’s Eve was my first day off the steroids and by evening I was alternating between spending time in the bathroom and curled up in a ball with shaking chills and body aches. Felt like the worse flu ever. I spent a mostly sleepless night and then gave up and was in the recliner by 5 a.m. where I spent the better part of New Year’s Day feeling sorry for myself, missing a family party. It was a beautiful, unseasonably warm day here and my husband tried to lure me outside with a bonfire. I did watch a little from the window. By late afternoon I was feeling a lot better and attempted to make dinner. We bbq’d turkey burgers and I managed one bite before I decided to have sherbet for dinner, a repeat of lunch. By the time I went to bed I felt really well, just extremely tired. In my delirium the night before (only a slight exaggeration) I completely forgot about the Imodium I had been told to have on hand. When I remembered it at noon, one dose was all it took. I won’t be forgetting that again! Now that I have a sense of what to expect and when, I think I will be better prepared next round.
Today I get a do-over. This is my New Year and we are clearing out 2011, packing away Christmas to start. Tomorrow, it’s life as usual. I’ve spent enough time anticipating and dreading symptoms that may or may not come, only to be blindsided when they do. If one miserable night is as bad as it gets, I’ve totally got this! Happy New Year.