It’s another fantastic Monday and my cup runneth over with sarcasm today (in case you couldn’t tell). Seriously – Mondays just blow ass. Particularly after you’ve been drugged the night before.
Let me explain. Saturday night I got a migraine and took a triptan to knock it out. By 6am Sunday morning, I had to take another one. I never really moved from bed and by 4pm I was desperate so I took an Oxycodone. Nothing.
Oxy schmoxy. It ain’t got nothing on my migraine soooo at 6pm, I took another triptan. I told myself if the pain hadn’t subsided by 7pm, then I was going to the ER.
By 8:30pm, some wayyyyy too peppy nurse was giving me 3 shots in my chubby ass and I wanted to hump her leg in my gratitude but that would have required moving. And opening my eyes. And I probably would have had to stop doing the ugly cry too.
I usually never allow myself to cry during migraines. I can usually physically stop myself except for the tears. They come out of my closed eyes and silently run down my cheeks willy nilly. I can lay there and not move or open my eyes or talk – and the tears will keep rolling anyway. I mean I want to cry – desperately - but I know it’ll double the pain. However, last night – I couldn’t help it. Nearly 24 hours of that kind of pain and the emotions that come with being bedridden and I couldn’t stop sobbing. It wasn’t pretty.
15 minutes and 3 shots later I was in Care Bear Land. Riding around in fluffy cloud cars and farting gum drops left and right. I don’t remember much after that.
Except that when I picked up my kids from my mom’s house, she came out and hugged me and said to me, “Your Uncle has cancer. In his lungs, his liver, his stomach, his pancreas…everywhere. He is full of it.”
What? I don’t understand. He’s in his 50s. He has kids in high school and college. He’s healthy and active. I don’t understand.
Perspective sure does come in the weirdest of moments, doesn’t it? My eyes were puffy and red and my heart was broken from the loss of a day with my girls due to the migraine and yet – in one moment – I realized how lucky I am and how precious life is and how I feel guilty for having a pity party over just 24 hours of pain…when other people I love are dying. Literally dying.
Suck it up, buttercup. Your pain ain’t nothing in comparison.
So now it’s 10am on Monday and I’m still out of it. The meds were shot into my muscles instead of an IV so the meds will last longer so it’s hard not to look or feel like I’m in a walking coma. But again..it’s just nothing next to knowing your body is filled with cancer and there’s nothing you can do – but die gracefully.
I was all prepared to write a post about blogging or my daughter’s party this weekend or my weight loss journey or whatever and now it all seems so miniscule and unimportant.
As I age, life becomes more clear and I feel more at peace with who I am but with that age also comes the knowledge that my loved ones are continuing to age too and people that I love are going to start losing their lives and pain is going to come like I’ve never known before…in the form of loss that I’ve rarely dealt with. I’ll have to have some tough conversations with my kids and go to ceremonies I’d rather not ever attend. It’s inevitable. It can’t be avoided.
And every topic beyond that just seems so dumb today. So non-mattering.
The cycle of life is amazing – yet excruciating at times. That’s just reality.
I haven’t had to lose a lot of people that I have loved in my lifetime…and my gut is telling me that I won’t be able to say that for very much longer. I have yet another Uncle who went from healthy to on the brink of death within the last few weeks as well…and he just turned 50.
Why can’t Care Bear Land be real? No one dies there. Mountain Dew never runs out and people don’t get old and cancer doesn’t exist.
Then again I suppose Care Bear is real…it’s called Heaven.
And sometimes you just gotta go through Hell to get there.