This past weekend....

I think I finally exhaled on Thursday night when I returned to my house for the weekend. As I was driving with the kids to home, my fatigue was overwhelming. I got out of the Explorer and said to Grant, "I think I finally exhaled." I fell asleep on the couch and was in bed by 7:30. I did wake up that night, ate dinner, and back to bed until 7:00 am. I was so tired on Friday it was a bit frightening. And, while I did pull the trigger on Legoland and the spa bookings WITH flights, I was still in my pjs when Grant got home. I think I just finally let go and knew it was going to be okay. Funny how so much is tied into what my oncologist tells me. I waited to hear it from him even though I knew what it was. Weird. I was better on Saturday. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I went into the boy's room to cover them up. When I was covering Nolan, I had a flashback to two years ago when I was first told that I had cancer. I thought about the night that I just watched Mason sleep - watching every breath - wondering if I would see him grow up. But this time, it was Nolan in the same bed that Mason used to sleep in. It was my baby that I didn't know if I would see ween from a bottle. My baby is the same age Mason was when I was first diagnosed. I made it to see him not only ween, but walk, talk, and right hook his brother. I didn't linger too long on this, but it made me pause. I guess I just have to make it to tomorrow and then the tomorrow after that. So, with a kiss on the head, I left their room and went back to mine where I am sleeping comfortably now as my back continues to heal (one chest tube hole to go) and curl up with Grant. Now, with that nice imagine in your head, let's talk about a disturbing one. While I was eating my dinner in the middle of the night, I was flipping and there was the oldest profession (prostitution) and the relationship between pimp and prostitute. One said, "You (the prostitute) don't do anything without consulting them (the pimp) . When you (the prostitute) find one (a pimp) that is good, you do what you are told - happily and when you (the prostitute) find one (a pimp) that is good to you, you don't leave them for any reason. So, now that I have a new lease on life, I am trying to think about what I want to do and be, but all I can think about is if you replace "prostitute" with "cancer patient" and "pimp" with "oncologist" that my oncologist is a very well educated and professional pimp and that makes me a, well you know.....things that make you go, "HHHMMMM." I will let that one settle out - hopefully I will come up with something better. Enjoy the sun, Ang