101 reasons not to get cancer...

Reason #1 is that I've now written 101 posts about having it. And it sucks. I'll think of 100 more later.

It sucks very much today. I had a nice visit with Andy, after an unfortunately long visit (12:00 appointment, got in around 1:45) and all kinds of new meds to experiment with. I knew my day wasn't going to be wonderful...I knew that after seeing Andy, I was going to be heading to WalMart for some final groceries and that it wouldn't be fun.

I didn't know that I would have to make 3 separate pharmacy stops to get my meds, including one in the wilds of Marysville, in the dark, across and almost under the Feather River bridge, in a place I'd never been even in the daytime. I also didn't know that a nurse at the cancer center would call and railroad me into having an appointment for some sort of radiation postitioning crap tomorrow afternoon while I'm supposed to be cooking. And I had to wrap things tonight and do other pre-holiday, pre-houseguest tasks.

But yes, you read that right, tomorrow afternoon, on Christmas Eve, I get to go to the radiation center. Don't even ask how she guilt trip steamroller pissed off railroaded me into giving up my holiday, after I flat out told her I was NOT giving up my holiday after letting cancer rule my life for the last 5 months, doing everything everyone had ever told me to do since finding out I had cancer.

It will probably be about 45 minutes worth of appointment, over 2 hours driving time, during the crucial cooking hours of 1:30 to maybe 5 pm, depending on lots of things.

My alarm is set for 7 am, so that I can get the three important things ready to go, pre-cooked, and able to just kind of be "tended" while I'm gone, so I can get home and hop right back into cooking mode.

And please, don't try to tell me that I don't have to do stuff, because I know exactly what everyone means, and I have simplified and pared down all the plans to the bone, including several changes on the fly in the grocery store. There are only 3 things that need to be cooked AT ALL for tomorrow, and then after that, I have other people doing everything. Those three things are it, and I can't cut it back any further unless I pull out a batch of frozen pizzas.

It's not about obligations, it's about that I planned something that was entirely within my capacity, and cancer has even managed to fuck that up. I want it to be Christmas! There will be turkey, there will be potatoes, and there will be carrots (sorry kids), and Lloyd and Anna will have to make sure they get cooked, somehow, because I can't do even that simple thing myself anymore.

Anna, who has helped me with everything, every single day during this holiday season, says it doesn't even feel like Christmas. I think she's just soaking up all of my bad vibes, and that's really not fair to her. Eleven is too young to have to be asked for help all the time, but she's the one who really helps...

Ok, I'm going to shut up now, before I lose the teeny, tiny, tenuous grip I still have on keeping things in control. It will all get done, food will be made, radiation crap will be done, much, much driving will be done, hopefully not in any snow, guests will come, and Santa will come, although I may have to be sound asleep long, long before he hits this part of the continent, not up talking and visiting with my guests like I want to be. Who knows.

There was *ONE* tiny nice thing about my day. The drive to Colusa and my high-speed birdwatching yielded 32 hawks (mostly Red Tails and Swainson's but 3 were little Kestrels, and several I think were Peregrines), 1 Golden Eagle, 1 Great Blue Heron, 1 White Tailed Kite (really close up!) and more egrets than I could count.
(Thanks mom.)

It's never *all* bad, of course. Today was just really close.