Normal just isn't normal

Many many moons ago...over 2 years ago...we learned, as do most cancer patients and their caregivers, normal becomes NOT normal and there comes a "new normal".  The unexpected, unpredictable, unbelievable all become a regular part of your world.  You can't predict the good days/bad days.  You just hunker down, suspend reality and hope the next moment will be one of the good ones and not the other.

Roger has been slowly climbing out of the chemo trenches...he aint out yet....but is getting closer.  He is currently dozing on and off in the recliner as we have fluids dripping into the IV tube hooked to his port.  TV drones on in the back ground and the tap tap tap of the keyboard as I update this blog.  We'll pull the needle this evening.  He said its really starting to be uncomfortable. So, the fluids will drip away for the next 1.5 hours or so until we disconnect him.

I came home from work this evening to find Roger outside helping our frail little ol' neighbor, Oneida, across the street rake and bag her leaves along the gutter of the street.  I nearly had a heart attack on two counts.  One for Oneida and the other for Roger.  Good grief.  This was the last thing either of these two needed to do.  I mistakenly interpreted Roger's level of activity as an indicator that he was feeling better.  He later revealed to me he couldn't let her do this by herself because he was sure SHE would have a heart attack.  (never mind HIM passing out...).  So this little odd couple managed to rake and bag up about 8 bags of leaves. As I approached I heard them bickering like two old hens.  Oneida, apparently can either talk...or work....but cannot do both at the same time.  So every person who walked by was greeted by Oneida with a 10 minute conversation.  All leaf-related work would stop.  Roger would try to wrangle her back into the leaf raking/bagging without much luck.  Then I learned, he additionally had to contend with being bonked on or upside the head...not once, not twice, but three times as Oneida would swing the end of her rake around with complete disregard of where Roger was.  The whole thing was so comical.  Literally left me in tears laughing.  As I would pick up bags to move to the end of her driveway, she would stop what she was doing to engage me in some story about her sister, or the leaves falling, or the weather, or ...you name it.  Meanwhile Roger would be standing behind her waiving his arms, making faces and saying "Oneida we are NEVER going to get done...rake rake rake".  Really pretty humorous.  He's known the old girl for 30+ years (remember, we bought the house from Roger's mom).

Anyway, it was an amusing moment.  Gotta appreciate them when you can.  I did, unfortunately learn later this evening that Roger was NOT feeling "good" but was merely helping with the leaves because he was worried about Oneida.  The manifestation of him feeling poorly is that he becomes snippy and short and turns mighty grumpy.  So, I quickly stored away my optimism and shined up my coat of armor to ward off any stray shots.  The cats have kept a low profile.

Where does time go?  When you're having fun...it flies.  When you're not having fun...it drags.  When you have too much to do...it disappears.  When there doesn't seem to be enough time...there just isn't enough time. Then, even if there is "time" ....then you just don't have energy.  Figures, huh? 

Time to change out the fluids for Roger.  One litre is done, now the "small bag" to go.  We'll most likely watch the clock tick midnight before we're done.  Since Roger doesn't really sleep much, the time doesn't seem to matter.  He is kinda lost in time/space. The TV will drone on in the back ground and I'll try to read a couple chapters in one of the books I'm reading.

Hope all is groovy in your world. ~ a