Thanksgiving in the trenches

Our flight home from Tennessee is delayed. Not because of any snowpocalypse, mind you, but because of a maintenance issue for our plane coming from San Diego. (Harry will be pleased to note that, given his recent emails about the media sensationalizing weather for the sake of something to report.) I went along with Rich for moral support but didn't feel like I was but so helpful other than being a willing partner for card games. I've been pretty anxious lately and that weakens my optimistic super powers. But as Rich just said, there's no rule that says I'm not allowed to be fretty.

It's just such an interminable process, these flights and pills and tests. It would be nice if there were a more measurable sign of progress. Sometimes no news is the best news one can hope for. The pills to ward off tiger attacks appear to be working.

We are in a better place than we were a year ago. Last Thanksgiving, we had absolutely no clue what our next plan was, only that the magic surgery didn't solve anything. We at least know now that we are ever so slowly beating back the slime in hopes that it will eventually surrender.

But after a year at war, I feel like taking a break. Much like John McCutcheon's Christmas in the Trenches, I declare this weekend to be a truce from cancer.

The little things

I have to change my infusion site every three days. I've started inserting them on my kidney area because it's the plumpest part of me that I don't rip out trying to get my pants off to pee. I switch back and forth between sides every three days, but still each area is speckled with little dots of where a site once lived.

It shouldn't be a big deal. It's not like I plan on being a muffin top model. But the little dots bother me.

They bother me the same way it bothered me to have my pump flip out at the pool on Sunday because I was more than two feet from it. It bothers me the way I can't figure out a pattern as to why sometimes my pump will vibrate to warn me my blood sugar is high or sometimes it will beep. Sometimes it will beep twice in rapid succession. It bothers me the way my battery runs out right after my insulin reservoir gets low right after my sensor fails all immediately before a big meeting at work.

This is one of my favorite scenes from the Iron Giant.

Sometimes life tosses us around like the water from the lake. My insulin pump is that old man in the pig truck, driving up to be "helpful" with all its little dots and beeps and buzzes, but all I want to do is yell, "Yeah?!"

Back into the groove

I started typing about how I am trying to get back on the wagon to eat and exercise like I want but then I went down some YouTube wormhole and lost interest in words. But I did log my food for today and I did do a tiny bit of exercise going up and down the stairs. It's just too damn cold outside and my blood sugar is being uncooperative. But for now, this is all I have accomplished this evening.