Hibernation Day
It's past noon and I am still in bed. Scattered around me on the spread are portions of the Sunday paper, read and unread copies of the International Herald, and a selection of books, mostly read. I am in my fuzzies with the laptop perched on my legs, listening to the sounds of the first real rain of the season outside my windows and the snoring of the old Wonder Dawg as she dreams her little doggie dreams.
I have been up several times to take care of the necessities - getting the paper, feeding the dawg, making the coffee, but I keep returning to the comforting warmth of the bed. Since it is not a school day, we all slept in and have greeted the day in our own fashion at our own times. Somedays, this place reminds me of a boarding house where the inhabitants pass through the common areas in their individual pursuits, avoiding unnecessary contact with the other denizens.
The girl is off at work and the boy can be heard rustling around in the kitchen eating whatever can be found that qualifies as appropriate and desirable to a teenage boy. He will poke his head in here when he gets bored with what he is doing.
Yesterday was the first track meet of the season. Both kids performed in the pole vaulting event. Neither one hit their goals so there was a bit of angst to be felt when they finally got home about 6 PM. I was there from 11 AM to about 3 PM. We went out for pizza to sooth the ruffled feathers.
I return to the Mayo Clinic on Tuesday after completing the first round of the experimental chemo I am undergoing. I am happy to report that I am not experiencing any of the more dire side effects that were so extensively detailed in the packet of consent forms that I had to sign before beginning the treatment. Of all of those listed, I can only claim some fatigue and a bit of joint pain on my left side. Indeed, these two things could also be completely unrelated to the treatment, but it is more comforting to be able to assign a cause. I have found this to be particularly true when it comes to lapses of memory. When I seem to have forgotten something, I simply write it off to chemo brain and feel ever so much better.
It sounds like somebody is pouring marbles down the drainpipe right outside of my window. I don't remember it sounding like that before. I spose I should put my slicker on and go out and investigate, but that would mean having to get out of bed, and then if I did discover something wrong, I would feel compelled to do something about it and climbing around on the roof in the rain doesn't sound appropriate for a day like today. So, I think I'll stay in bed for a bit longer.
So, there you have it.
I have been up several times to take care of the necessities - getting the paper, feeding the dawg, making the coffee, but I keep returning to the comforting warmth of the bed. Since it is not a school day, we all slept in and have greeted the day in our own fashion at our own times. Somedays, this place reminds me of a boarding house where the inhabitants pass through the common areas in their individual pursuits, avoiding unnecessary contact with the other denizens.
The girl is off at work and the boy can be heard rustling around in the kitchen eating whatever can be found that qualifies as appropriate and desirable to a teenage boy. He will poke his head in here when he gets bored with what he is doing.
Yesterday was the first track meet of the season. Both kids performed in the pole vaulting event. Neither one hit their goals so there was a bit of angst to be felt when they finally got home about 6 PM. I was there from 11 AM to about 3 PM. We went out for pizza to sooth the ruffled feathers.
I return to the Mayo Clinic on Tuesday after completing the first round of the experimental chemo I am undergoing. I am happy to report that I am not experiencing any of the more dire side effects that were so extensively detailed in the packet of consent forms that I had to sign before beginning the treatment. Of all of those listed, I can only claim some fatigue and a bit of joint pain on my left side. Indeed, these two things could also be completely unrelated to the treatment, but it is more comforting to be able to assign a cause. I have found this to be particularly true when it comes to lapses of memory. When I seem to have forgotten something, I simply write it off to chemo brain and feel ever so much better.
It sounds like somebody is pouring marbles down the drainpipe right outside of my window. I don't remember it sounding like that before. I spose I should put my slicker on and go out and investigate, but that would mean having to get out of bed, and then if I did discover something wrong, I would feel compelled to do something about it and climbing around on the roof in the rain doesn't sound appropriate for a day like today. So, I think I'll stay in bed for a bit longer.
So, there you have it.
Copyright ©2003-2007 Phaedrous
posted by Phaedrous at 12:48 PM
5 Comments:
Sounds like a good Sunday. I slept until 11:30 this morning, and then made the huge leap from bed to beanbag to read the internets. Now I need lunch. So ambitious... :o)
Stay in bed...I did most of yesterday and if felt wonderful! A bit guilty at the end of the day when I hadn't accomplished much but still, happy nonetheless.
Bed.. A wonderful, beautiful place to watch the world go by.
We live right next to our city's biggest main street which doubles as a highway. We're in the attic (third floor) of a house-gone-apartment building, and our bedroom windows (all two of them, right beside each other) overlook said street. I love staying in bed and watching the traffic - and occasionally people - go by. It's a wonderful way to enjoy the world, though the perspective is a bit disjointed sometimes.
Hope you enjoyed your day. It was gorgeous here, and even the cloudy sunset was beautiful.
i was going to diagnose you with something other than chemo brain if you told me you left your comfy cocoon to check the marbles in the drainpipe. glad you stayed put and enjoyed the morning.
i would enjoy your bed.
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