Today is pi day. On this day, we traditionally have a pi day celebration, eating and sharing pie with friends. This particular day is considered the pi day of the century, since the date takes pi out to five numbers. 3 14 15. We were going to take things even further by having our party be a brunch starting it at 9:52. Early for some, but it would just go on all day. We would need two meals worth of pie, breakfast and non breakfast. It would be creative and wonderful. We have been talking about it for years. What an opportunity. Except, well, I just don't feel like it.
I feel a little badly about this, since I never told people I wasn't going to do it, and pi day is my thing, even though I am the furthest thing from a math mind that you could imagine. Maybe someone else would have wanted to throw a pi day party and I deprived them. Just as it loomed closer and closer, I thought about all of the work that goes into a party, the cleaning (even if it is only just passable clean), the prep, the invites, the activities, the will to put on a happy face and have a good time when you are not even sure if you are going to be feeling side effects from chemo and maybe you will just want to sleep all day but there will be all these people in your house and you can't really just leave your own party in your own house.
I just couldn't do it.
Instead, I got up not to early, and went shopping with Anna. I didn't really need to go, since Steve and I went last night. It is my weekly time with Anna though, and last week we didn't go, so I got up and went anyway. It is possible we did an even worse shop for Anna than we usually do.
I even bought Steve a lemon meringue pie for breakfast.
Since then, I have been working on the comic I didn't have time to do all week, and thinking about putting all of my tax information together for the accountant. A difficult thing for my non math mind to do.
Unfortunately, in working on my chemo comic post, I looked over the info sheets the teaching nurse went over with me last Friday. It is full of scary words and ideas. Things that are worse than diarrhea and intestinal perforations. Like life expectancy extensions and death. Words I know that loom somewhere in the future, some distance away, but hang closer and breathe a chill down my spine like a dementor I can almost see on the periphery of my vision.
This is not where I want to be. How did I get here?
For this I cancelled Valentines day and the pi day of the century? Am I out of my freakin' mind? Maybe this is the wake up call I have been needing, the one to stir me from my self imposed exile of healing and taking time out until I feel better. I was feeling fine, and I will feel fine again. And yet again, I am reminded that these things are exactly the reason that I am going through this in the first place.