I was doing so well for three weeks. The energy was there.
I might have gone overboard.
Might have stepped into a daycare center where RSV and the flu are running rampant.
Might have been around a certain child with a cold.
Might have pushed it taking that walk at the park 2 weeks ago.
Might have eaten at too many restaurants, diners, bakeries and donut shops.
I might have visited the 3 main art supply chains in Charlotte.
I might have had a carmel salted brownie for breakfast.
I might have insisted that I do the laundry, I make the bed, even if doing these activities exhaust me.
Don't do too much, but make sure you exercise everyday.
I did too much. And I never worse a mask.
I was in the hospital for 3 and a half days. I had fevers near 103. I had paralyzing, stabbing pain in my back and under my right breast. I was sure the cancer had spread. Into my blood, into my bones and into my lungs. It hurt to breath. I was showing early signs of blood poisoning. My blood pressure was never so LOW in my life.
They ran test after test and then repeated the tests. They "shocked" my system with 4 different antibiotics, 2 oral and 2 through IV. As I started to feel better (no more fevers) the doctors continued observation, and could find nothing, other than the old tumor friends, who have apparently not shrunk. But not grown either.
I am home and still in pain but getting better.
Everyone said this is a minor bump in the road, but I say what if I died Wednesday night, when it was all at its worst?
I am ok with a death prognosis, which they have yet to give me. But I am NOT okay with dying suddenly.
How do you write a letter to your son about your death?
How do moms with cancer do this?
I want to grow old and have grandkids and grow a garden and paint a picture of it and travel on senior tours.
That is all I can think of.