Thursday, September 16, 2010

#263: Intermezzo

Here's a word I learned while watching Cash Cab yesterday. Yes, I am that boring. An intermezzo can be a piece of music between the major movements of a symphony. It can also be a sorbet or wine intended to cleanse the palate between courses of a meal. That's what I'm doing now. Cleansing my palate.

Monday's meeting with the doctor was like the meal I'd been waiting for. It was delicious. I loved celebrating with friends on the phone, on Facebook, and on my blog. But something was missing. I thought that a clear CT scan would mean that it was all over. I expected to wake up the next day and start a new life. Turns out that it doesn't work that way. The threat of cancer is over, but the recovery has barely begun.

Since getting the good news, I've been exhausted. Wiped out. In his book, Lance Armstrong said he spent this period playing golf and eating Mexican food. I won't be playing any golf, but I'm not ready to jump back up on the bike just yet, either. Mrs P keeps telling me that it's going to take time.

This offends my Protestant work ethic. My mind tells me I should be up and around. Doing things. Getting stuff done. My body does not agree. In spite of the Ambien, sleep takes forever to come. When it does, I sleep for hours and hours. When I wake up, I feel like I'm in a fog. Yesterday, I tried on four pairs of shoes. I was sweating like crazy. It took me an hour to recover. 

So what about this intermezzo? What is it going to sound like? It's going to be quiet. I'm afraid it's going to be bland, like a sorbet between the fish and the meat courses. And it's going to take far too long. 

The first thing I did when I got home after the appointment on Monday was to start a "to do" list. They are mostly little tasks. Chores, really. They are important things, but they aren't really goals. Yes, I want to do the things that will get our lives back to normal. Do the dishes. Finish the taxes. Get the car fixed. Fold the laundry. But I want to do some bigger things, too. Direct a play. Run a 5K. Play Shakespeare. Find a smaller house. Get a job acting.

None of these things will be easy, and I can't do any of them on my own. Each will take time, planning, lots of work, and plenty of luck.  But first, I'll need to pick one. And I will. Just as soon as I can get up out of this chair.

Peace,

Pennsy

2 comments:

  1. Thinking of you every day, still, and hoping you are well, happy, rested, and loving your life.

    Lots and lots of love to you and yours.

    ReplyDelete

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