When You Forget

This last week was full of ridiculous amounts of appointments, planning, and anxiety for Jay and myself.  We spent Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday in the Doctor's offices.   I had to get Jay to PET scans, oncology appointments, urology appointments, Lab draws, and Chemo Education meetings.   It seems as if most days I'm just walking in a fog.  That if I look too far forward, or anywhere other than directly in front of me, I start to lose sight of what is important in the here and now.  I've come to a lot of conclusions this week about the lifestyle of a caregiver.   About how immensely draining it is (and we're not even in the thick of it yet, so I'm completely aware that I have no clue how drained I'm about to be).  I've come to realize how deeply some of the things we're facing are going to effect Jay, Me,the kids, and our families; and then life gets busy and all of a sudden, a few hours have passed and I haven't thought about Jay's cancer once.  And I'm glad I wasn't obsessing over it for a little while, but I'm sad because it's the reminder that this is the new reality for our family.  This is the new "normal" and it's really not "normal" at all. I find myself trying to escape reality.  To get so wrapped up in anything that's going to make me forget for a while.  I crave company being at our house, I find myself looking for ways to help someone else in a tough time. I find myself wanting to host friends and family over every second of every day just so I can force myself to put on a happy face and forget.          Luckily, we had some pretty special new friends come to visit this weekend.  My house was filled with laughter, kids, friends, family and fun.  My heart was so full.   We went finishing, we are together, we laughed together, we talked about some of the hard stuff we're both facing, and we got a dose of "normal".  "Normal is absolutely intoxicating right now.  I take every ounce of it in, and when it's all over, I feel like I've found a new low.  In that new low is where I find myself sleeping less, fighting back the tears more, secluding myself more.  Being a caregiver sometimes feels like you're expected to carry the weight of the world on your own. Like the person who's been sharing your load of life with you is no longer able, so you have to pick up the slack, and pretend like you're doing it with ease.  Maybe that's just the -pressure I put on myself.   I don't want to be upset in front of Jay or the kids or our families. I've always been the kind of woman that tries to appear as a steel wall when things start to go haywire.  At the same time, I take on this new roll with a lot of pride and dedication.  I'm a nurse by calling, and now, I'm taking care of my most important patient. A patient I vowed to love in sickness, and in health, and although it's not always easy, it's definitely one of the most important jobs I'll ever take on.       This morning, the first day of chemo means there's no more forgetting for a while.  We are headed straight into the thick of this fight, and we're doing it full speed ahead.  Jay and I haven't had much to say to each other in the last 24 hours.  It's just a peaceful understanding that we both need silent affection, and sometimes our own space.  That's one of my favorite things about our relationship.  Sometimes we just fall on the same wavelength.