Sideways

Ruh roh. Little bud is ailing. After sniffling all night, he's running a fever today. Some kind of virus. And there is one of my new couches, all covered with blankets gypsy-caravan style. Not how I intended to show the new couch friends to you guys, but new furniture plus possibly-sick child equals Becky overreacting. At the first sign that Hank wasn't feeling well this morning, I scooped him off the couch into my arms while my parents gathered blankets to put under and around him. Then he conked out in his little nest.

Then my parents left. Wait, what? Yes. They just waved and rolled down the driveway, off to rejoin their own so-called lives. We've had at least one grandparent on duty, nearly constantly, ever since my mastectomy at the end of March. There were gaps here and there--gaps when Matt and I had to resume full household and parenting duties--but blessedly soon, the next shift would arrive for work. I mean, do they think we have the emotional maturity and judgment to care for these children on our own? We'll see.

Thank the Lord that Matt's mom is coming on Wednesday.

And I really needed my mom and dad over the weekend. Thursday, Friday, and Saturday I was in some kind of chemotherapy funk. It wasn't too bad, because there was no upchucking, but I just felt weak and kinda out of it. Doing very much for the kids would have been really hard. My symptoms seemed to be, mainly, a headache and a feeling that things were just not right. Not things with me, things with the whole entire world. Like, seriously, I got up Saturday morning and everything seemed fine, but I thought, "Something is just not right. It's all slightly wrong and it's heading sideways."

I found confirmation in the fact that my coffee tasted a little funny. And not funny ha-ha either. The news on CNN seemed faintly sinister. The foster children (Conspiracy Guy's brood) arrived to play with Hank, and they seemed super-duper annoying. Whiny, whiny children! Even my own precious angels seemed extra messy and attitudinous.

By afternoon I'd relaxed and recovered enough to confide in the family the fact that I'd been feeling like a double-plus bitch. I don't know that they were surprised. I really do think that my Codi moments are some kind of symptom of the chemo drugs.

Today I feel more normal, and I'm hoping I can keep Hank steady. He's my steady beau.