Thursday, June 15, 2017
What a difference a day makes!
My sweet hubby texted from work and asked how I was feeling. When I shared the news, he asked if I wanted him to stop and pick up dinner. At first, I said no. I was going to try to make dinner but as the day wore on, I recanted and asked him to pick up Chick Fil A. He said he would.
When he walked through the door, my sweet mate could tell I was struggling. He took one look at me and started to cry. I was surprised by that reaction and croaked out, "Why are you crying?" He explained he was scared. He said he didn't want to lose me. I told him it was just a bug and not to worry. He was okay after that but I realized, as did he, we'd both been traumatized by the cancer and we'd both been on constant alert in case it ever reared its ugly head again.
We ate our dinner in the dimly lit living room as we watched a program we'd recorded from cable. He was exhausted from working in a hot warehouse all day and I was wiped out from the internal battle my white blood cells were raging against some interloper. What a pair we were!
By the time 8:30 p.m. came around, we were both ready for bed, but we stayed up a little longer so we wouldn't wake at the crack of dawn. At 9:30 p.m. sweet hubby went to get the bed ready and crawled in exhausted. I waited about thirty more minutes to give him time to unwind and fall asleep.
By the time I entered our bedroom, he was snoring loudly. I was so thankful to be able to call it a day. By the time my head hit the pillow, I could barely keep my eyes open but, as I usually do, I made myself read a few chapters in a good book. It always helps me relax and pretty soon, I felt my eyes getting heavy. I could no longer focus on the words, so I let the book fall to the floor and I clicked off my flashlight.
This morning, as sunlight slid across our room, I began to stir. Another new day. I wondered if I'd still feel crummy. I hoped not. I got out of bed and flicked on the light. Looking at the clock, I saw it was just 6:00 a.m. "What am I doing up this early," I thought to myself. Oh well, when I'm awake, I'm awake so I might as well make the best of it. I made my bed and got dressed. So far so good! I did a little voice check to see how my throat was feeling. Asking myself how I was feeling out loud seemed silly but how was I going to know unless I said something? My voice didn't sound as scratchy as yesterday but my throat hurt. I grabbed my flashlight and took a peek inside my throat. It was raw and red. I didn't see any white spots so apparently no strep. It was probably just a good case of pharyngitis. I made a note to have some warm tea with honey and lemon.
After breakfast, I got busy about my day. I noticed I wasn't as tired as I'd been yesterday. I could tell I wasn't quite myself yet, but I was getting there and that made me happy!
When you've been the victim of cancer, every illness is cause for concern. I'm thankful this one has come and gone, but it was tough while it lasted. I continue to equip my body to do what it can to fight by taking natural supplements every day. Some days, I want to give up, but I know it's the best way I can fight cancer naturally and stay healthy. If you saw the number of vitamins and supplements I take each day, you'd probably stand with your mouth gaping open. I won't give you the exact number, but I will tell you it's quite a lot and sometimes, I feel like I'm eating more pills than I am real food. But, ya gotta do what ya gotta do, right? Whatever it takes to continue giving myself a fighting chance, that's what I'm going to do. And my little white blood cells are always at the ready.
Since the Corona Virus came to town, everything has been weird. Nothing makes sense. Overnight people got sick as the virus spread. And th...
It's been a while since I've written in my blog again...I apologize to my faithful readers. My intentions are good but my life is bu...
Yesterday, I was reminded of something important. Late in the day, as I was checking my emails, I received notification that someone had lef...
Life is moving forward at an alarming rate. Things haven’t quite yet returned to “normal” and I’m not sure they ever really will, but life...