Missing Work

  Last night my husband had to once again take off work to take me to the Emergency Room. I guess there are going to be a lot of nights like last night. I was throwing up blood, couldn't catch my breath, and was running a fever. So, we go to the local ER. I didn't feel like sitting in the car all the way to Sherman. Bad idea. All that happened at this ER was that I received some Morphine and some extremely potent nausea medication. My husband kept telling them that I had just taken my Oxycodone but they insisted Morphine would still be okay to give me. Needless to say, I don't remember the ride home or going to bed. I do remember waking up at noon and being angry that I slept the day away.

   I felt better for most of the day, but as I stood there teaching the kids, I began to feel weaker and weaker. I could only manage four hours today. Then, I started throwing up again...and here I am running a fever. I am also coughing, which is new. Can I say, I really hate hate hate cancer??

   I miss working. It has been a year since I have been able to work. I miss my job. It was my favorite job ever. I felt important, I felt needed, and I had made some amazing friends. My job so was so rewarding, sure there was some corporate BS, especially right before I got sick, but I managed to navigate through it by working harder and taking on more hours. Of course, it's easy to look back through rose-colored glasses at the better days when everything fell into place. Truthfully, though my job was stressful, I wouldn't have had it any other way. I thrive on pressure and perform at my best when people are really counting on me. I did, anyway. :(

   Sometimes it really bothers me that I cannot mean more to other people. That I no longer have anyone relying on me to succeed, that there are no more deadlines, and no more pressure to get things done despite the mounting paperwork on my desk. There is a certain intrinsic satisfaction of a job well done from your supervisors and co-workers. And like so many, I also thrive on recognition from others.

   I wouldn't expect people to believe or even understand when I tell them "being sick is a full-time job." I am not sure I would have even believed it. It is certainly the least rewarding job I have ever had.

   Almost daily I must remind myself that I shouldn't feel guilty if I need to sleep. I struggle to balance what I want to do with what my body will allow me to do. I feel like I must be the only person in the world who feels the way I do, although; logically I know this is untrue. 

   In this shitty job, there are no milestones I can set, no goals I can work towards.

   No being terminally ill isn't a full-time job. It's enslavement to a horribly flawed body with taunting reminders of the life you had, the person you were...and I miss her, terribly!

   Well, my Tylenol has worn off and once again I am feeling feverish. Sorry this blog is so short, but I really just don't have the energy or the strength tonight to keep writing. I will write more tomorrow. Oh, and by the way, in case I haven't mentioned it, I hate cancer! 

   If you can, please help us out by either purchasing a shirt/hoodie or donating to our Go Fund Me account. I cannot afford all of my co-pays or medications and I am trying to relieve my husband of some of the burden. He has had to miss several days of work...we are doing good to pay our bills. Thank you all who donate, share, and will donate. There are no words that are good enough to thank you for your generosity. 

   Love you all! Mean it!

Go Fund Me

Booster Shirts

Facebook Fan Page