Yesterday was an epic bad day. I work part time from home, and remote in via my home computer. Let’s just say that there were some “issues” that made it next to impossible to do my job. Frustrated, I decided that I would vacuum the house and then wash the kitchen floor, two chores I heartily hate. But as I was already in a bad mood, I figured, how bad could it be?
Turns out I was wrong. The vacuuming was done with my usual bad grace and swearing, and then I picked up my handy dandy Swiffer Wet Jet–and the bottle of cleanser was empty. I muttered about “people who don’t replace things,” stomped down the stairs and found that the Crankee Yankee had bought a new bottle (damn, do I appreciate that man!).
As I opened the back of the Swiffer to replace the bottle, the battery compartment flopped open and vomited out its four AA batteries–turns out they were DOA anyway. After swearing some more, I went back downstairs and found AAA batteries, D batteries, C batteries and even those hard-to-find 9V batteries–but no AAs. So I called the Crankee Yankee and asked him to pick some up.
I also decided to call my doctor to see if my surgical appointment had been made yet for my lumpectomy (see my two posts, “A Surprise” and “A Surprise, Part 2” for more information), and of course, no one knew anything about it. I finally tracked down the right person and they said they would call me back (which remains to be seen).
Honestly, when you get a cancer diagnosis, even a stage zero one like mine, you get rattled easily and find it hard to focus because your brain keeps on screaming “I have cancer! I have CANCER!” It would be pretty helpful if, after a consult, someone would say, ‘I know that you are going to forget a lot of what I’m telling you, or who to call for details. Therefore, I am giving you this card with a number to call. You will get a person on the other end who knows all about you and your situation, and can actually answer your questions.’ But of course, that’s not how things work.
Hot, sweaty, frustrated and mad at just about the entire world, I threw myself into my favorite chair and turned on the TV. As I sat there and stewed about how unfair the world was and why was everything turning to crap on me today, a miracle happened.
Our one female cat, Nala, who has been skittery, nervous and prone to biting and swatting all the years we’ve had her (she came to us with fear issues and she actually is better now), suddenly jumped up into my lap. Now she does this with the Crankee Yankee, whom she prefers, but never with me. There she was, warm and comfy, settled into my arms and with her little head nestled against my cheek, purring away.
Well, that was my sign that everything was going to be ok, and that I didn’t have to keep on tilting at windmills that day. Some days are simply harder than others, and relentlessly pushing and shoving doesn’t get answers any sooner. These are the days to lie back, and let it all roll over on you. You will survive, you will get answers, and, if you’re lucky, your one scaredy-cat will climb up in your arms to comfort you.