Stranded

Tomorrow the car is in the shop which means I am stranded in the suburbs. It is weird how discombobulating that is. I'm not worried for health reasons. In fact, my ability to lie around the house has increased so much that there are many days I don't even make it out to check the mail. But tell me I can't have my car and all the sudden I'm thinking of all the things I should do. Get pills for the dog. Go to the grocery. I'm running low on make-up and I need to go to the mall to get what I want. (Forget that I wear make-up maybe two days out of seven and tomrrow probably isn't one of the two.)

When I was in grad school I was taking classes and teaching classes and I was always running. The lines at my bank were always long (this was in the infancy of ATMs.) One day it finally occurred to me that when I was standing in line at the bank, that was my job. To stand in line. Until I got to the teller. And that was okay. So bank lines became mini-vacations.

I tried to think of this whole Hodgkins thing as I kind of re-alignment of priorities the way bank lines are, and to some degree I have succeeded. (I think of people like Heather who are doing this and holding down a job and I just don't know how they do it.) But you know, life keeps interrupting with silly stuff like the fact I failed to get my tags renewed on my car last month. So I ran around doing that stuff today.

But tomorrow, I'm going to be stranded, at home. (Okay, my husband is having some wheels delivered by UPS so I can't nap all day.) But tomorrow, I think I'll revel in not being able to get anything done. And before someone says, 'You can write!' Well, the truth is, I can't quite remember the name of anything and have this curious, if mild aphasia. It's called chemo brain and it's described in the literature. So I'm not going to ruin the perfectly good story I started by trying to do it now.

So there. Just think of me as stranded in an airport that happens to be just like home.