I can't complain

I remain almost symptom free.  I can't believe I only have fatigue (daily naps) and an occasional upset stomach to report.  At this rate, I will get a second dose on Wednesday.  Pretty exciting.

I know it's a little late, but I wanted to mention Thanksgiving.  I will say of all the lessons I'm learning, gratitude may be the most useful. 

It seems like in the end, when people look back on their life they wouldn't change things, but they wish they would have enjoyed all they had and the stage they were in.  I have been at what I thought was the end, and this certainly was my regret.

I can honestly say since my cancer diagnosis (and the worse the cancer got, the more true this is) that I have been grateful for where I was and what I had.  Most likely because I see life now for the precious, fragile, expensive gift that it is.

Sometimes when people ask me how I'm doing I kind of feel like they want the honest truth.  How are you, really?  Maybe I'm not telling the whole story on my blog (for sure I'm not).  But I'm certainly not skipping the bad parts here. 

The truth is, I can't complain.  When I start, and I do sometimes start, my heart just isn't in it.

Yes, I guess my life is hard.  I sort of have a gun to my head.  I do not feel 100%.  I have no idea how much money I have, as all my bills are in appeals with the insurance company.   I am running out of options.  That list could go on I suppose.

But do you realize that I wake up to my best friend since junior high?  And soon after a dog bursts into the bedroom and insists on kissing our faces good morning?  She is followed by a 10 year old who wonders what I'm making for breakfast.  He wakes the other brothers up as I drag myself out of bed and grab Josh's robe-which hangs right over a heater vent.  Heaven!  I make breakfast (unless Josh beats me to it or I have been nice enough to buy cold cereal) while they emerge from their rooms in clothes they know I won't let them wear.  We have that debate.  Every morning we have that debate.  They eat while I compile a lunch for those who don't want what's on the school menu.  James hasn't chosen a hot lunch in years.  Luke can't find socks.  Or a coat.  Sam stuffs his papers in his backpack that has not been cleaned out all year.  I try not yell about that.  James is tying up loose ends from yesterday's homework.  Finally they are ready and it's time for the carpool.  "Love you, have a nice day!"  "Love you too Mom!"  "Love you too!"  "Love you too!"

All that happiness before 8 in the morning.  We are literally just getting started.

So when I answer that I'm doing great, it's not just out of convenience.

It seems like others with cancer, or something horrible, who could complain all day use their words to praise and thank, rather than complain.

Maybe they, like me, are just happy to be here.