This has been one of my hardest weeks yet. I mean not even a week during the toughest part of my chemo seemed this bad. This week if it could go wrong it did. Let me give you a run down

Monday: woke up feeling great, feeling I could accomplish anything and that I finally had a handle on the chronic illness thing. I was done being sick, raising my middle finger at it saying fuck you I win. I cleaned my house top to bottom. It was beautiful, every part was cleaned and dusted, it was amazing to be able to do that again!  I was so proud of myself, I could now shut up my house for autumn when it turned too cold.

Tuesday: I woke up feeling a little worse for wear but still good. I decided I would use this day to rest up from my adventures the day before so as not to overdo it and piss my body off completely. I was a little sore, my feet were a bit swelled up and I had red blotches were the pain was, normally they should be warm to the touch but they really weren't, plus pain in my left hip. My mom messaged later in the day saying her computer was being strange, so after I got G at school we headed over. Now I know absolutely nothing about computers so I don't know what I thought I could do but figured time with my mom, my favorite person in the world, was just what the doctor ordered.  So I go there and of course have no idea what it is, so I said I'd have Scott meet us there after he got out of work. We spent the next few hours with my mom, just hanging out and having a good time. As the day wore on I was getting more and more tired, and then the chills started. By the time we left, the pain in my foot was so bad that I could barely walk, and my younger cousin walked me to my van parked on the street, yikes I'm old.

I had decided to go to bed early that night because of the exhaustion brought on from pain, and I was hoping some good sleep would bring me back to good as new. Just as I was dozing off my phone let out of a chime. My first instinct was to ignore it but curiosity got the better of me so I looked. It was a message from my sister D, our sister in law in California was just diagnosed with stage 4 lung caner a few weeks ago, and D was letting us know that she was being released from the hospital into hospice care, the doctors only gave her a few weeks left to live. Lung cancer is an aggressive bastard and by the time the doctors realized she had it had already metastasized to her brain and hip. I accidentally hit like on the message when I put my phone away, and didn't realize it til the next day, I felt like an ass, and this was not the news I needed before bed.

Wednesday: I woke up, got Grace ready and off to school and came back to relax before I had to get ready and head into Boston to get my scan results. Basically the doctor walks into the room and says "Congratulations! You're still cancer free! But there are a couple spots on your lungs that have gotten a tiny bit larger but only by the tiniest bit. You also have avascular necrosis, which is the top of your femur is dying due to lack of blood flow and is wearing away at the hip socket. So while you may not have to see me for another year, I'd like you to see a specialist for this. There is no cure for this, just ways to try to ease the pain." Did I mention the fever was still there? So exit one doctor, bring in a new problem and doctor. Wednesday night I was in rough shape, real rough shape.

Get to the van, it wont start. I parked on P3, did the bad luck seep from P2 to P3 finally? Did it follow me down? P2 was the floor were we had not 1, but 2 cars break down and wreak havoc on us during chemo.  I sit and wait a few minutes and try again, still nothing. This has happened before on those gross and humid days, sometimes after being driven it just needs a cool down and I definitely wasn't inside long. Few more minutes, tried again and it started right up. Made it home without problem.

Thursday: I woke up feeling like I was hit by a truck. I hurt and hurt bad. I had Scott drop G off at school, and a friend bring her home to me. I was feverish, hot but frozen, exhausted beyond belief, and by mid day I realized I had a UTI when I went pee and my bladder felt like it was trying to escape my body through my urethra, helpful. I called in for a prescription.  By bedtime I had a new lupus mouth sore, my 5th one in 2 weeks. I get one, get it cleared up, an by the end of the day a new one, in a different spot, pops up. Yeah thats happened 5 times now.  I spent most of the day asleep.

Friday: I woke up, could barely walk or breathe the pain was so bad. I wanted to curl up and never leave my bed again, but I got Grace off to school on time and came home to see Scott off to work. Shortly after he left I went back up to bed to watch mindless TV and sleep in a semi comfortable place, but between my hip hurting on the left, my head hurting on the right, and my back spasms on my back there was no comfort, I came back down, I didn't sleep a wink all day. G's godmother brought her home to me. By Friday night I was feeling a tiny bit better and the fever was finally gone but knew not to count on it.

Today I woke up and came downstairs and finally wrote all this out. I actually thought today was Sunday and that I really screwed up the weekend. I couldn't remember Saturday at all, so did I sleep through it? It wasn't until a moment ago that G told me it was only Saturday. OOPS!!!

This is life with chronic illness. This is life with a body that fought 8 hard long months to live and is still paying for it. This is what my life is like. The spoon theory is a good theory, and if I could find a better was to explain it I would, but the writer of the spoon theory had it perfect. I start my day with a certain number of spoons, sometimes more, sometimes less and each thing I do, from washing my hair to getting dressed costs me a spoon. Monday I was ready to say fuck you illness, I'm taking my life back, no more being sick! So illness came crashing in like the waves, and said it would show me who was boss. I concede, I lost big time this week, plus the news about my sister in law J, and my new diagnosis was hard on me.

I'll never be who I was, that I know, but the good days out number the bad and with each, I guess mini flare, there is healing. I need to find my new normal and its taking time to figure out the balance to keep my body and mind happy and fulfill all my obligations and promises as a wife and mother, and its taking longer than I thought it ever would. When I think I've found it, I overdo something, or God forbid forget to sunscreen and the lupus flares up to tell me to slow down, to enjoy life and the beauty in it and remind me to take time to care for myself as well.

And I'm happy to say I awoke today pain free, and feeling ready to live again.