I’m having a good day today. Aside from the perpetual fatigue, the effects of the last round of chemo have passed, and I’m feeling more like myself. Of course, I’m still in the phase where my immune system is craptastical, and I’m basically stuck at home. I did have to go get my weekly bloodwork done this am, so I took advantage of the early morning crowdless grocery store to pick some things up (take that cabin fever!!), and plan on actually doing some cooking/baking today now that my tastebuds are back to normal.
I’m starting to get some progress made on Christmas crafts since I don’t plan on shopping much this year. Now that I’ve been feeling better, I have been putting together some of the projects that have been lollygagging around my craft room, languishing away. And sadly, those projects have little to nothing to do with cancer, and more to do with the fact that this summer was spent working my ass off and finishing my managerial stats class. I figured as long as I have my days full of nada right now, it would be best to finish them up. Aside from a multitude of knitting projects, I have also have bunch of needlework and cross stitch stuff I need to finish up (incluing some Christmas ornaments I started when I graduated college the FIRST time around). I am working on some holiday table runners to give as gifts, and some other things that I want to do for my grand daughters.
I’m going to do some baking this week as well. I have rediscovered my love for making bread, and made three loaves this weekend. Which, to our dismay, are nearly gone (d’oh!). I’m going to make some more today, and also make some chocolate chip cookies. Next week, I’ll make some more cookies (the cookies are for my husband this week, and next week will be for my grandbabies), and some bread to give to Jess. They are coming up the 19th to spend the night and spend the morning of the 20th with Bob, since it is his birthday. Which means I also have to make a pineapple upside down cake next week. Happy birthday Bob. I honestly think I’m the only person on earth who NEVER liked pineapple upside down cake. Blech.
And now that my tastebuds are somewhat returning to “normal,” meaning no more chemo mouth (finally – because that taste is nasty), we are having fish tacos for dinner. NOM. I made the cilantro coleslaw this morning, and a big ass batch of pico de gallo. Have I mentioned that I could eat that shit straight out of the bowl – no chips or nothing? It’s better with just picked ‘maters, but this is pretty danged good. And just enough serrano chili to give it kick without giving it the “OMG MY MOUTH IS ON FIRE” feel. Bob will take care of that by adding hot sauce, I’m sure. I like to taste my food. And retain my tastebuds.
Of course, I have lofty goals for this week, provided I can stay awake. Partly, I’m doing all this to take my mind off of things. Lately, things have been more about the who hysterectomy thing than the cancer thing. You see, this past year, Bob and I actually considered having our own baby. His girls are his step-daughters (he raised them, and to them they are “dad”) but neither of us had any of our own. Of course, now, without the vital parts for baby making, that is out of the question. And every now and then, I get really sad about that. Of course, menopause enhances those emotional outbursts and I start crying listening to country music (hence, the title of the post – never fear, I get around to things!) at red lights in traffic. Or at the grocery store. Or watching the Simpsons. Sigh. But that desire to be a mama has never gone away. I’ve got my furbutts, and my grandbabies (who I don’t see enough – but can you EVER see your grandbabies enough? really?) but it’s not the same.
I thought of broaching the topic of adoption with Bob, but we’d never get approved. He’s going to be 56 next week, and I’m 40. And Lord knows, even before the cancer I’d never get life insurance (diabetes, heart attach, le sigh), which kind of also precludes you from being approved for adoption. And I’d want to do a foreign adoption, so that’s extra hoops to get approved. And there’s the whole money thing – which we need for retirement and paying cancer bills.
So, I’ll just have to be sad for a bit. And mourn being a mama. And enjoy the hell out of my grandchildren. Because these girls? They already hold about 80% of my heart (20% goes to the husband – ok, well all of it does, but he has to share it with these girls):