One Million, Fifty-one Thousand, Two Hundred Minutes

How do you measure, measure two years?

Much like the life of my little dude who turned 11 yesterday, it both feels like forever and moments ago that I found Lefty’s lump. But it’s neither. It was two years ago this week.

I’ve started this post at least 5 times in the last two months. This is somewhat good for you, as it means that I will give you the straight up elevator pitch on most of the posts I’ve started, and you get to read like, two months worth of thoughts in one post.

One is the loneliest number: This one was Mother’s Day. The sidekick & I never planned to have more than one. But as I watch so many of my friends having kids, high school & college friends, so they are just as elderly as I am… it’s hard to know that I absolutely can not.

What the Hell: The Avril Lavigne song that was stuck in my head.  All my life I’ve been good, but now, I’m thinking what the hell.

What Doesn’t Kill You: I’m not a huge Komen fan (too political, not enough $$ for research), but did my 1st “Race for the Cure,” and it was pretty cool. Also walked the Seattle Rock & Roll 1/2 marathon.  Took me longer than my 2nd 13.1, but not as long as my first. I was not that impressed with the music… I’d rather carry it myself. But support along the way was awesome. And it was my first real endurance event as a survivor.  Which just means that I can do anything I could do before the big C. Which still feels like a worthwhile lesson.

Momma Said Knock You Out: Signed up for a groupon for kickboxing. LOVE it. I end up sore, but in the best way. Remembering muscles that I’d long forgotten… And the pecs that have implants under them don’t hurt that much more than all of the other muscles.  Got pink gloves & shoes from my boys for Mother’s Day. They are awesome.

Pooper Scooper: I’ve been joking that I need to go out and pick up dog poop because I’m finding it really hard to give a shit about things. Sometimes I feel like I should be doing something more with my 2nd chance. But I’m at a loss as to what I should do. So I’m just going to keep on keeping on.

The other thing that happened yesterday was my quarterly visit with my oncologist. Good news is that he feels like I’m doing well enough to only see him twice a year. Bad news is that I got a call today and the blood test I took yesterday says I’m not yet in menopause, so I have to keep taking Tamoxifen. I know I’m “tolerating it alright” but I was hoping for less hot flashes and less headaches.  Sigh.

It’s amazing how much has happened in the last two years. And in so many ways, I still get down on myself. I haven’t lost the weight I wanted to lose. I feel like I’m stuck in a rut at work. I’m not nearly the mom, and especially wife, that I think I should be.

But no matter what I have or have not done in the last two years, I am an continue to be a work in progress.  The likelihood of being perfect in the next two years. Pretty much nil.

But if you measure a year in smiles, or in hugs, or just love, it makes sense that the last two years feel like they have been longer than the 38 that came before them. Because I’ve had an embarrassment of riches in those terms.

Despite the limbo I still feel like I’m in now, I’m continuing on looking forward to the next 48 years.

 

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