I wasn't particularly excited about any of these three events, but unfortunately, they all seem necessary. The port and the chemo for obvious reasons, and the return to work for several different reasons.
A couple nights after I had gone back to work, I had to walk to the annex to turn in some paperwork and when I got there, the captain of my shift and two of my sergeants were sitting and talking in the sergeant's office. They all asked how I was doing and how the surgery went and we got into a small discussion about it. We started talking about other people who had been off for extended periods and had talked eagerly about coming back to work.
In some ways, I didn't want to go back. Not because I'm lazy or anything, but because I got to enjoy sharing a bed with Kelly and not having to leave every night. Sleeping like a normal person was another nice perk. On the other hand though, going back was nice in a couple ways. When you're off work for as long as I was, you start to feel a bit useless. It's not like I could be at home just doing whatever I wanted. I had restrictions on how much I could lift and what I was allowed to do. It's no fun watching your wife go outside and pull snow off the roof or shovel the driveway while you sit inside.
Another nice thing about going back to work is that it gives a sense of returning to normalcy. It kind of gives the belief that even if you're not completely right yet, you're on the way. I talk about getting my life back all the time, simply meaning that I want to get back to the way things were before all this crap started. Being at work was the norm before my diagnosis, so going back to work makes it feel like I'm one step closer to “getting my life back.”
Tomorrow, I get the second chemo treatment, or as my wife said to me today, a quarter of the way done. As usual, she has found a way to put it into terms that makes it a little easier to take.
Throughout this blog, I have made mention of the fact that I have been lucky despite the diagnosis. Sometimes it's easy to forget that. I don't feel lucky when I know that I have a treatment coming up, or when I look in the mirror and see the bump on the left side of my chest where the port sits. I also don't feel lucky when I'm hooked up to the pump and everything that would normally require no effort or forethought, now requires me to have a plan for something as simple as getting out of bed to pee.
When I do forget though, I always seem to find a little reminder as to the fact that despite whatever troubles I might have, I am better off than a lot of people. Last week, my kids stayed with Kelly and I while their mom was out of town. I would get home from work and Kelly would have everyone up, dressed and fed. We would all pile in the car and I would drop the kids off at their respective schools and then take Kelly to work. On one stretch of road on the way to Kelly's work, there is a spot where there was a minor sink-hole last year. The hole has been filled, but the road is still dirt in that spot and it makes for a bumpy few feet. After taking that route twice, Kelly suggested an alternate route to avoid it. The morning that she suggested it was bitter cold. At the intersection where I would normally turn left to take Kelly, I went straight and it was there that I saw my reminder.
A man was pulling a sled with a small child in it across a parking lot. At least I think it was a small child. Like I said, it was bitterly cold that morning and all you could really see was a lump in the sled covered in blankets. The man was dressed in a coat, a winter hat and gloves and had the sled tied to him by a rope around his waist. Based on where they were, he had to have been heading to Lincoln School which was still a solid mile away. There was no snow in the parking lot that he was pulling the sled across so he was just dragging his child across the concrete. He was going to have to hurry because it was close to 8:00. And then even when he got to the school, he was going to have to turn around and walk back to his house only to return at 3:00 when school gets out and pull his child home.
It's been bothering me since we saw them walking that I didn't pull up and tell the man to get in the car so that we could take him at least to the school. Now that the kids are back at their mom's house, I no longer take that route to take Kelly to work. I have been thinking about making a detour though and seeing if I stumble across them again so that I can offer them a ride. I don't know whether the man would accept my offer, but the fact is he can neither accept nor decline unless I stop and ask.
Being lucky has a lot of different meanings, and I keep finding that I am only unlucky in one aspect of my life and it is fixable. Others have illnesses or situations that are not fixable. I am lucky.
I Will Win
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