I don’t really know what to say about the months-long hiatus I took from posting. A few things have happened since last you read.
My dog’s disease progressed rapidly and I finally made the decision to have her put down in October. That will go on the list as one of the Top 5 Hardest Days of my Life. It has been strange trying to adjust to no longer having a doggie nearby to scoop up and cuddle with. It’s been strange listening to the noises old houses make and realizing those noises did not, in fact, come from my dog at all.
In November, after a doctor’s visit I decided to try a walking program that would gently progress into jogging after a sum of weeks. It consisted of walking every day; the first week at 10 minutes, the second 15 and so on until I reached the magic 30 minute mark. At that point, I would begin jogging three times a week. I did not make it far. I made it to Week Three, where Shin Pain from Hell finally forced me to admit that this was not something I could continue doing.
I made a conscious decision at this time to walk three times a week for as long as my body would let me, and go from there.
Unfortunately, not even a week later I received a call from my Dad with horrible news. He’d been diagnosed with Esophageal Cancer.
I really gave it my best effort to not become focused on why this was happening to him and instead accept the fact that he was going to have a difficult road ahead of him. I soon regressed from that approach, however, when his frustrations became mine not even two days into his battle. I stopped going out, talking to friends, spending time with family, and began stewing in the comfort of my misery and selfishness. I wondered why this, why now, why him, why me, why, why, why??? I was angry. No, enraged. I took it out on those closest to me, and even those who weren’t so close.
I have since come to accept things more easily. I do still sometimes find myself asking that damn question though, usually when I’m alone at home and wondering how Dad’s feeling after his radiation treatment.
He is scheduled for radiation Monday to Friday for six weeks, and six chemotherapy sessions each Thursday. Since he lives in the city, an hour and a half away, I’ve only been able to make it to his chemo treatments. So far, two sessions into it, things are looking good (knock on wood).
This is becoming an overwhelming post. I’ll talk more about this in future.
The moral of the story is… I’ve jumped off the jogging bandwagon. I’ve gotten a bit of Walking Time in, but certainly that is not the secret to success in and of itself, so I have a bit of work to do to bring things back around.
The plan is actually to wait until my next doctor’s appointment and harass him into giving me x-rays. That’ll work, no?