Been battling another headache. I'm not taking care of myself. It's the return of seasonal affective disorder (SAD), an all-too-common condition in the PacNW. No wonder we have such a thriving goth and fetish community in Seattle - it's dark outside and there's nothing to do.
I was going through some piles in the office and ran across a roll of photos I'd recently had developed. Among the pics was a shot one of the kids had snapped of Sam at the dining table on some lazy, grubby Saturday morning in about 2002, pre-diagnosis. At least that's my best guess. No date stamps on these. She's wearing her red paisley stretchpants and her black T-shirt that says INDIAN TERRITORY with a picture of the entire western hemisphere (a gift from our friend Mike S.). The ones where she's bald and looking like a renegade from a George Romero movie set don't bother me as much, because that's my most recent frame of reference. That's the battle. That's the reality of death-by-cancer. But the photos where she's healthy looking and happy make me sad, because her body is already sabotaging itself and she has no clue. Neither of us saw it coming. 35 year old women don't get the kind of cancer that shows up in 65 year old males.
Had a really good day yesterday. Found a jacket at Target (I own a half-dozen sweatshirts and a winter parka, but no jacket). Then I went down to the local family-owned computer shop and ordered my new business workstation, then took Kayleigh to dance class and walked across the street to the Cingular store, where I picked up a new cell phone for the business. Came home to find notification that the Triskelle CD had gone up for sale. Christmas in October! Sweet!
Today feels quite a bit more dominated by a sense of ennui. And the headache is probably caffeine withdrawal. See, I'm a terrible addict. I don't treat caffeine with any respect whatsoever. Some days I can have 2 mochas, some days a black tea, other days nothing at all. And I don't drink soda. It's so random I think my body works up an addiction and then throttles me when I blithely go a day or two without any. Gee, why do I have this nagging headache? Go figure. At least it's not the battle Caleb is fighting with nicotine. Go, C! You're freakin' Superman!
No group for me tonight. I just don't have the energy. Like pouring alcohol in an open wound, it'll disinfect the tissue and make healing easier in the long run, but it hurts like hell. Actually, it's much more like a good old fashioned Scottish wound-searing. 1) Remove arrow or other foreign object; 2) Drink a lot of whiskey; 3) Press red-hot iron into wound; 4) Scream like you've never screamed before, pound the douchebag who stuck you with a red-hot iron (preferably over the head with the bottle of scotch). There. Your wound is cauterized and can scar over with less chance of infection.
Now aren't you glad you read my blog today? It's so educational!