I have a strong sense to nest right now.  I feel October 29th looming and because of that deadline I am spending my time attending to long-neglected home projects.  My surgery is of the out-patient variety so I will be home the same day they operate.  But then I do expect to he here in my little condo for at least a few weeks and potentially all of November.

So lots of laundry first.  Washing rugs and lots of towels and things that have been lying on the closet floor for months.  Among other things, I gathered  my bras and panties today and realized that the 4 bras I just washed won’t be needed beginning post-mastectomy. I don’t know exactly when bandages come off and not sure when I will need to don a bra again, nor do I know what kind of bra it will be.  Oh well, I reckon that will become clear soon enough.  

It wasn’t depression or fear or hopelessness that I felt at that moment.  Rather, it was a resigned pragmatism.   I think it was similar to the feelings I experienced as I gained weight and had to buy larger jeans and yet it appropriately diminishes that experience.

Trash.  Threw lots of stuff out yesterday.  And I expect to continue performing this exercise in the near term which means more is headed for the dumpster.  

These exercises serve two purposes.  I think it gives me a sense of being in control of something and let’s face it, the cancer diagnosis makes me feel like a game show contestant in my own life rather than the potentate that I had always been.  It also helps burn some nervous energy and focus on something other than all this crap that is front and center.  

I actually went to the gym last night, partly because I don’t have cable TV and my gym does so I could watch my beloved Wildcats on ESPN, and partly because it just seemed like a good idea.  And it actually turned out to be a great idea.  I got to watch the Cats while working the cardio for 45 minutes and then did a round of weights.  I know I can’t undo 4 years of bad habits and I won’t get fit in the next 16 days but I can make some incremental positive improvements.   Again, it just feels good to focus on something positive.

But the best benefit of the busy day and a good exercise session was blissful, restful, sleep.  Just sleep.   An illusive commodity since Friday, October 4 when I visited my regular doctor who immediately got me in to see the surgeon and the waking nightmare began in earnest.  

Blissful, restful, sleep, I have missed you and welcome you back.

To sleep, perchance to dream.  Peacefully.  And wake up rested and ready to fight again.

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