If I go back and read the posts that I wrote leading up to my first treatment- well, that says it all. So chipper, so matter-of-fact- almost like I had not been diagnosed with cancer. I talked about my biopsies and showed my scars. I took it in stride when the doctor told me my treatment would be six months of chemotherapy followed by radiation. I relayed those facts to those that wanted to know them, with little emotion.They told me I had Hodgkins, and I believed them, and I told everyone and they told me what they were going to do to treat it. I mean, even three days after my first infusion, I was telling the whole story of my diagnosis to some interested (they assured me) co-workers- prattling on about it, maybe, about the whole crazy thing and how lucky we were to catch it.

I never said why me? because I don't believe in that stuff. The universe does not know my name, and I don't believe there's someone up there trying to teach me something, though I have learned things already- valuable things- and will surely learn many more. When folks would ask, I'd tell them that hey, this is the hand I've been dealt, so we're going to deal with it. I said it and meant it, and I'm sure it sounded positive but I had no idea what I was talking about. I acknowledged the reality, but they were just words.

I never denied. But when we talk about "processing" things or letting them "sink in," what are we really talking about? Or when we say something hasn't "hit" us yet? I guess for me, it means it has not made us suffer yet.

Well, reality is here. I have processed this now. It has hit me. Like a piano from a third-story window, it  has hit me. I was flattened by the chemo the Saturday after the the infusion. Sunday, still flat.
And the next week came and crawled by, and I could barely lift a finger. I did not sleep for two nights because of the abdominal pains. There was no relief to be had- Caitlyn took me in to the doctor on Wednesday, and they prescribed remedies that would have me on my feet again by the weekend. Now, as I go into my second treatment, I am feeling even better. But the last two weeks have shown me the road I am on- by burying my face is the asphalt.

But at least now I know. It's real now.

I was going to write longer, but I am in the infusion clinic right now and am starting to think "funny."

Quick notes:

My mom is here now- got here on Saturday and is staying til Christmas, and we've been having a great time.

Hair mystery solved: it's on its way out. Beard still a question mark.

I am working, doing wine stuff. Not working at night right now.

Good neighbors are great to have, but good retired neighbors are worth their weight in gold. Whatcha doing? Nothing. Can you drive me to the dentist? Sure!