Wasting Time

While it is true that God has given me so many blessings and great peace amid cancer, it is also true that I have “blah” days in which I waste hours away.

This morning (Saturday, Feb. 14), I woke up with motivation but, as often is the case, it quickly disappeared after my shower and getting dressed for the day. Until cancer, I never understood how much a shower can cause so much fatigue. I mean, I always experience a hot shower as a lovely luxury while I’m in it, but then my energy goes down the drain with the soap and water.

After my shower, it is time to kick back in my recliner. Seriously? I need time to relax so soon after getting up? My brain needs as much relaxation as my body. Reading takes too much focus, so I play a few easy games on my Kindle. There goes my intention to leave the house.

Yet today is higher energy than early on in my treatments last fall. Then, getting up from my chair to walk to the bathroom was an energy-draining event. Today, I am doing laundry. Three loads, in fact. Plus, I’ve emptied the dishwasher.

It’s a blessing that I have a fragmented sleep schedule. I’m often up between four and five a.m. because I can’t get back to sleep and am hungry anyway. So, I get up, eat a light breakfast, and then turn to some Bible reading and journaling. That is followed by going back to bed and listening to a favorite Christian album. I usually fall asleep again for a while.

So, the day has drifted by with me in the recliner most of the time, except for the one-hour nap I took in bed this afternoon.

I should have spent some time outdoors with this mild weather, but I didn’t. Cedar and juniper pollen are high and being outside results in more congestion and coughing.

Admittedly, I feel guilty about these do-nothing days. There are small, easy tasks I could do to declutter, some of them even from the comfort of my recliner.

Pretty soon it will be time to have supper. And then, before I know it, the evening will be gone.

One more thing. I noticed sometime back that my eyebrows have mostly disappeared, and my upper eyelashes are short and sparse. (The lower eyelashes went away with the first cancer in 2016-17 and have never come back.) I thought of doing a parody of a nursery rhyme on the subject, but only got this far: Oh where, oh where have my eyebrows gone? Oh where, oh where can they be?

Time to check the laundry and decide which meal to zap in the microwave.

That’s all for now, folks.