A box of spare parts that makes no sense

Sometimes my days feel like out of body experiences. I feel like I am looking at a box of spare parts and none of it makes any sense. Do you ever feel that way? The last couple months have been pretty rough. Between the aforementioned new developments, the radiation, the chemo and work, life, ageing parents and their medical happenings, I am finding myself with fewer and fewer brain cells to allocate to each of these things. And people can see the fabric fraying.

Mistakes happen and it's not because I'm not paying attention. The mistakes happen because 1) my brain isn't exactly working as it should, and 2) there's a lot of stuff going on in there. If you are struggling at balancing all these things like I am, you are probably also really good at beating yourself up for making a mess of things after you realise that you've screwed something up. 

Sometimes you're "lucky" and other people will point out these mistakes. Be grateful when they are patient, because most times they are not. It's difficult for others to understand exactly what's going on in your own head when you don't even understand what's going on up there. 

I looked forward to a cup of coffee to get me through the end of the work day. I got everything together, put on the Keurig and walked a few steps away to complete a work on task that I had meant to do this morning. After doing the task, I sat down at my desk. Without my coffee. I seem to be doing this a lot. A lot. Good luck if you think that I will remember something you said to me in passing or even in a brief discussion when I can't even remember to complete a simple task like preparing and then drinking a cup of coffee. 

Do you ever feel like crying because of stuff like that? I'm asking you because I often do. I wonder what the hell is going on with my brain even though I have pretty much taken inventory of all the things that have contributed to how I landed in this place.

But you know, I don't feel like I need to foist my misery into the world, so I have made the concerted effort to be upbeat, cheerful and accommodating. But that also takes a lot of energy.

I recently showed one of my bosses the ridiculous list of appointments I've had scheduled for me over the next few weeks and his eyes popped out of his head. Now, this list would still be daunting if all of these appointments were at one place, but they are not. Unfortunately, this list is as follows (in a non-specific, non-HIPAA violating sort of way):

• 10/10/17 - X-ray (at a medical building located 4 miles from work)
• 10/13/17 - Chemo (at the cancer centre located 10 miles from work)
• 10/17/17 - Surgery follow-up (at different building located 10 miles from work)
• 10/19/17 - Full body bone survey (at the cancer centre located 10 miles from work)
• 10/19/17 - Bone marrow biopsy (at the cancer centre located 10 miles from work)
• 10/27/17 - Hematology appointment (at the cancer centre located 10 miles from work)
• 10/27/17 - Chemo (at the cancer centre located 10 miles from work)
• 10/31/17 - Radiation follow-up (at a medical building located 6 miles from work)

That's just this month! My fellow cancer heroes understand this well and I think that we have to spell things out for those who are not on this march across the desert. We hope that they understand that  there's an awful lot on our plates and a lot on our minds.

And as I stated when I started this blog, there are others who are far busier than I and I bow to them. They are amazing people and I cannot even imagine what they are going through or what they have to do to keep things running. 

Right now, I'm just struggling to keep my head above water and I feel like I am somehow opening up the floodgates. (What does the water look like? It looks like this: SEQUENCE)