One of the most frustrating things about this illness is how tired I am. I had been dealing with the exhaustion for a long time before diagnosis, but of course it is much worse now. I admit that when I found out that I was to enter a new period of my life where everyone competed to take care of me, that I thought, “Maybe now I’ll get to do a few art projects.” You would think having a permanent nurse-maid and nanny situation would allow a little for this. However, it only took my first attempt at painting a picture as part of my new creative therapy plan to douse my creative flames. I found I had just enough energy to paint in some blue sky and a green sward into my uninspired landscape. When I told my brother Bryce this, he described it as being like another moment of grieving. Exactly. The reality of my exhaustion does cause me grief. If I actually thought I was terminal, I’d be really mad. Who wants to spend their remaining days feeling too tired to do anything?
So, I felt tired yesterday and did not post. Sorry. So much for my goal of at least one blog post a day. I have enough to say, just not enough energy to do it with. I doubt many of you can imagine what it is like to be so tired all the time. It is NOT like just having a baby and the healing it takes afterward. Right now, I have no special hormones running through my system giving me spurts of energy and health. Childbirth is natural, cancer is not. As it is, my blog seems to be my only creative outlet. I console myself that this internet lifestyle is acceptable because someday I will use all this writing in my personal history. (Wouldn’t you like to know more about my patriarchal blessing now? But let’s face it the really interesting thing about patriarchal blessings is the secretive nature of the things.)