Gave me cookie, got you cookie!*
This week has been…something. Sunday night, I barely slept, so I spent most of Monday feeling like shit and crying a lot. I slept better Monday night, so felt like an actual human person yesterday. Did you know sleep is important? Well, it is. You heard it here first.
I’ve never been a great sleeper (idk, maybe as a baby?). I’m a light sleeper, which means that everything in the world wakes me up. Once, I woke up because the moonlight coming through the blinds was too bright. For obvious reasons, my sleep lately has been even worse. I’m trying to make more of an effort to do things I enjoy and that are good for me, like reading and yoga and going to the beach to look for seal snoots (which we also did last night) because I know it will help, even if lately it takes SO MUCH MOTIVATION to do, well, anything.
Seal snoots not pictured.
The past few days have been chock-full of emotions. I know part of that was coming forward and telling everyone I know that this is happening. It definitely made it all feel more real, and it made the severity of what was happening feel more...serious, somehow.
Mostly, though, I’ve been trying to come to terms (in a good way) with how, just, absolutely kind and supportive everyone I know is being. I’m a quiet, introvert-y type and sometimes I wonder how much of an impression I really make on people. I told Joe yesterday that, it wasn’t like I thought people wouldn’t care that I had cancer, but I have been overwhelmed (again, in a good way) with just how much support people are throwing at us. Seeing how many people we have in our lives who are there for us and love us...I mean, that’s just not something you see evidence of on a daily basis, maybe ever. You might know that support is there if you need it, but you also might never need to rely on it.
I’ve always been terrible about asking for help, even when I really need it. I don’t know why. I like being self-sufficient. I don’t like when other people try to do things for me. Ask Joe how many dirty looks he’s been on the receiving end of just for asking if I need help opening a jar, carrying something heavy, or (most realistically) trying to reach something on a super high shelf. Uhhhhh, no, I’m fine, thank you. I can very easily climb on this counter and stretch my arm out of socket to get this glass. Go away, GIANT.
I suppose I’ve always looked at asking for help as a sign of weakness, but only if I was the one asking. I don’t think other people who ask for help are weak. Only me. Or maybe it’s a control thing. I do come from a long line of control freaks.
But this is a situation I’ve never been in before. I don’t currently need help. At the moment, I still feel fine (physically, anyway), but I know it’s coming. I am having (super scary let’s not talk about it anymore) surgery in two weeks. I’ll have about a month to recover before I likely go straight into weeks of radiation treatment. Also, did you know we’re in the middle of a pandemic right now? HAHAHA EVERYTHING IS FINE.
I know that, over the next few months, things are going to be really rough. I’m going to need to rely on the people who have offered and want to help. Basically, the lesson that has taken 38 years to sink into my dum-dum brain is that I need to get over myself and let people help me.
I hope they expect payback later, though.
*this is a Nick Miller blog now