Sunday, August 10, 2008

Bad Days

Bad days are a little different now.

Saturday was such a bad day. Pain level was through the roof, stamina was...well, it wasn't. Instead of someone who has backaches and low energy, I was someone who had cancer, in every bone, in every cell. I kept trying to get out of bed, but each time, I crawled back after 15 minutes.

I've had a few bad days since the diagnosis, as you might guess. And thankfully, they were always followed by better days. But I hit such a low on Saturday, I wasn't at all confident that I could expect to bounce back. I wondered, was this the beginning of a downward spiral? Was I just going to continue to feel worse?

Well, I'm still a Lucky Dog. Sunday was much, much better. Not on top of the world, exactly, but able to get out of bed and get dressed. Able to walk 8 blocks. Able to sweep my disgusting floors.

In ways I never appreciated before, any day that's not a bad day is, by default, a good day.

And even a bad day is a good day, when it's over.


AgelWoman said...

You kind of put Life into perspective, Nancy Old Buddy, Old Pal ... that is the suckiest Saturday that I have ever not experienced personally. What else do you do? Do you listen to music? TV? those little people in your head?
But you know what? I think there is nothing in the world that can't be cured by crawling under the covers.
I think I slept through most of my first (and only)marriage, actually....

Michelle said...

Oh, I am glad that even if it was by default, that Sunday was better.