cancer – day 72

We’re home, and after, what, maybe eight hours back in California, I’m back to being so antsy and anxious that I can hardly sit still.

One of my fish, Crystal, was dead in the aquarium filter when we got home. Mark says she must have jumped over the edge of the tank. I drove out to Volcanoville to check on the cats, and Mizzou is getting way too fat and apparently still throwing up fairly regularly, and Seoul won’t be held anymore, not for a moment. So I have (had) a suicidal fish, one bolemic cat, and a kitten that’s reverting to being undomesticated. The cats are starved for affection, and jumpy. Mizzou’s back foot slipped on my shoe and made a little noise that made Seoul jump about a foot, which in turn gave Mizzou a start and they both just about jumped out of their fur. This whole living situation with me being away so much is not good for them.

It’s working out really well for me at Mark’s though. I had been thinking about staying in Volcanoville tonight when I went to take care of the cats, but I’m getting so wound up inside I didn’t think it would be a good idea for me to be alone tomorrow, potentially spiraling up in that emotional/mental hurricane. Last day of this mess before we find out about chemotherapy, just one more day, I can do it. When you’re a survivor, when you’ve lived through really, really difficult experiences in the past, it’s not so hard to tell yourself that you can survive pretty much anything for just one day. Just one day, mind you, which is why taking it one day at a time can work. Of course, I would just as soon never have to survive another day like my surgery . . .