The things I say and the things I mean are sometimes worlds apart and I’m just starting to realize that. Like telling someone that I’m in “remission”. What they hear is “I’m cured”, what I mean is that “I still have cancer and will always have it.” It’s a part of me now. It’s who I am and how I’m defined. Also, when I say “I can’t eat”. It doesn’t mean that I’m being stubborn and want to waste away to skin and bones and live on soup. What it means is that it hurts to eat, the fibers of the food get lodged in my throat and cause physical pain when I try to swallow. It’s like trying to swallow around a golf ball. Doable, but not very pleasant. It very hard to express what I’m feeling when most people don’t understand what I’m explaining to them. How many people can identify with “cold/hot sweats”, or “swallowing around a golf ball”, or “when your nerves go chemo crazy”.
So, I need to take more time to explain myself better. Use my words. It’s just so much easier to write about it than it is to speak about it. When I write I can pick and choose my words, change things if they are not right. The spoken word is like ringing a bell. There is no way to un-ring it. It’s done and laying there, like a Baby Ruth in the swimming pool.
Tomorrow will be our family Christmas. Got the cooking started today, just have to put the bird and the potatoes in the oven, make deviled eggs and a pasta dish and I’m done. Joe braved the grocery store for the final trip to pick up everything I’d forgotten (yeah Joe). He knows I have no patience for shoppers, especially at this time of the year.
So I’m off for bed. It’s a little after 9 and I have a big day tomorrow. Sunday and Monday I don’t have to get out of bed except to use the bathroom. I’m so gonna need a massage when the holidays are over.
Happy Holidays to you and yours. May the gods keep you safe in the palms of their hands.