I still can't believe I am on my way to Lake Tahoe. This seems incredible that Don and I will spend a few days there. We booked way before my diagnosis.
Now there is a window of less than a week between appointments and start of radiation. I'm in the San Francisco airport right now, laughing at how hard I can make things.
Yesterday I was just packing for me. No baby strollers, wheelchairs or even giant instruments to pack. But my mind was boggled just the same. What head gear do I want? Wig, half-wig, scarves, hats? Wig shampoo in case I sit by a smokey bonfire?? Thermometer, since I'm still in the med study... water for hydration... Kleenex for my constant eye watering... so much over-thinking.
Don is already there, since he went with our son for the earlier half of our rental time. So, my travel buddy is not with me. That's okay, I've flown on my own many a time. I even flew with young tots alone to Europe. (Of course I did faint on the plane and needed oxygen, but that's another story) So, it's just 2 weeks since chemo 4 and I don't trust my fuzzy brain to remember all the things that Don does without even thinking... like setting the alarm and tipping and checking us in at the terminal, super efficiently.
When I was going through security I had a flashback of the last time I said good-bye to my mom at an airport. It was just before she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's and I watched her in line putting her items in the bin. I wanted to be there to help her take off her shoes and place all her stuff in the bin, but I could only watch from a distance. Impatient folks stood behind her and I cringed. But I saw her calm face, taking her time, folding her sweater and New York Times, without a care in the world. And I think I probably looked just like Mom today. I didn't trust my chemo brain, so I took lots of time to ponder the schedule and my ticket. Don is so super efficient, I usually rush along with him, but I dawdled at the check in kiosk. I took my time putting on my shoes and checking to see that I still had my ID. It felt good to be slow.
Me, the Passenger
The guy next to me, in high tops and plaid shorts said nothing. He shut the shade and closed his eyes. "Hey!" I wanted to say. "The new me is enjoying life now and I want to see the view!" I waited for him to snore, then lifted the shade and gave myself a view. Then, I avoided sleep since I figured my wig would twist around funny.
While waiting in my Space Age chair at the San Fran Airport, I spoke with a woman who only wanted to talk about her cats. I think she was a little lonely, so I tried to be pleasant. I took advantage of our friendly encounter to ask her to take this picture so I could text it to my sister-in-law, who sent me this lovely scarf. Sadly the photo revealed that my wig was indeed a little askew. I tried to fix it in the restroom, but gave up.
On to Reno, where Don drives us to Tahoe!
Cancer - Covid
I started this complaining list/blog, in May 2016. I posted 200 gripes about my breast cancer and then I was done.
On March 13, 2020, I started venting all over again, when another disease (starting with a C) interfered with my life. Only this time, it was affecting more than me.
Coronavirus and Cancer! Both are evil, but neither can totally get me down... if I vent! I hope with Covid, I run out of complaints before 200!