I've been awake since 4:00 a.m. for no particularly good reason. In recent weeks, normal sleep has been a fickle lover.
Oh, I can attribute my frustrations to any number of annoying pharmaceutical side effects, mood disorders, or just plain old challenges that any mid-lifer with middle school boys could have. But, I'm not going to list those...except, I do wonder how long before young teen boys will eventually take an interest in their personal hygiene. I'm tired of inspecting teeth for signs of at least minimal brushing and sniffing armpits before I let them exit the house in the morning for the bus stop.
However, the main thing is, I'm tired of waking up mad.
I've never particularly been a morning person. I remember an old boss (a terrible old boss...don't worry...it's none of you that might be reading this) who bragged that every morning when her alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., she jumped up out of bed, excited to be facing the day! She couldn't wait to put a load of laundry in the washer, go for a run, and report to work for yet another day full of people complaining to her about how nothing worked correctly. She was one of those who didn't have 'weakends'. She had 'strongends'. Even in my naive 20's, I realized she'd drunk the Koolaid.
But, there must be a reasonable medium...somewhere between seething and Zig Ziglar mania.
I read something recently about grief that really stuck with me. Even though the article was about grieving over the death of a loved one, I realized the principles applied to me. My life has irrevocable changed ever since that day back in May of 2012 when my surgeon confirmed our suspicions: I have cancer. I am grieving the loss of that pre-cancerous life.
Yes, I've had amazing successes with my treatment, and I'm so grateful for the support of so many around me who've helped in so many ways. But, the fact of the matter is, my body has changed in ways I never realized it could, and I'm very, very sad about that.
The thing that article brought home to me is, you can't rush grief. You have to slog through it. There's just no off-ramp to an easy detour. But, one day, you realize you've come a little further down the road to discovering that new life on the other side.
But, I'm impatient. I want to be there now.
