I have not posted in awhile. I have not sewn in awhile. I have not read a new book in awhile. I have not walked in the park in awhile. My seasonal funk has become a bout of depression - I think. I really didn't know how desperately close to my heart I was counting on my vaccine trial being a miracle cure. I knew rationally that this wouldn't happen, but I figured I would be the one to beat the odds. The thought of going back on chemo, even the low dose that it is, has been devastating. I don't usually write cancer stuff on this blog, but on Caringbridge everyone very nicely will tell me things will be okay. You know what, things are not going to be okay. I continue to fight a fight that no matter what, I am going to lose. After I go on chemo again, it is just erosion. Ned asked me if the bad cells and good cells are really fighting? I asked if he meant with boxing gloves and he said, "no, swords." Problem is my good cells have swords, but the bad cells have automatic weapons and rocket launchers.
I got the call today that Sarah had to be put to sleep this afternoon. She is the same age, same litter as Hoover, but she got cancer. I still haven't recovered from Riley's death and now Sarah is gone also. I remember how cute she and Hoover were sleeping together in the baby bouncy seat. She was the ultimate family dog. I never met a dog who loved people as much as she did. She loved everyone and wanted everyone to love her back. The last few days I was told she only had energy to wag her tail, a sweet girl gone.
Add into this late nights, rotting wood, a cat with a nervous disorder, $4.69 gas, cold rain, weight gain, tired kids, a clogged toilet and it is just a sad time. "Don't nobody bring me no bad news."