Everyone was out doing something yesterday, leaving me home alone to sleep. G had a shadow day for school, which he seemed to really enjoy. Tipper was at ComicCon, which was a definite hit. Kat worked, obviously, which she loves, but standing that long without a break is tough. I slept. I’m blaming the weather. While there was never heavy rain, weather conditions were enough to make everything hurt. The temperatures outside were decent enough, but I only felt warm when wrapped in a blanket. And my eyes kept watering. Still. It’s been over a week now and I can’t explain why my eyes water so much.
G forgot to take his meds before leaving yesterday, so he had a ton of anxiety to deal with which kept him awake well past 3:00 in the morning. How did he spend his late-night time? Texting Dad. I don’t mind. I understand how he feels in those moments. He wanted to go to sleep but his body refused to relax and let him close his eyes. He finally got up and ate something and that seemed to help.
Then, while we were texting, there was the distinct sound of gunfire. 14 shots to the north of us, 10 shots to the east. IMPD wants people to call 911 when they hear gunfire, but I don’t see the point of telling them that there were gunshots somewhere within a five-mile radius just as the clubs are closing for the night. I never heard any sirens so I assume that no one hit anything/one valuable. This is just how things are now. Any asshole has a right to carry, doesn’t have to be trained, doesn’t have to be registered, and can carry concealed. In that environment, there are going to be people who can’t help firing their guns. We’re thankful when no one gets hurt and move on.
Belvedere is antsy this morning. He was up pawing at my face, “Dad, I need to go out,” a little after 7:00. Normally, I wouldn’t mind so much. The weekday schedule has the dogs going out a little after 6:00. Everyone else in the house was still asleep, though, and once I was up Hamilton started whining while I was trying to get dressed. I can never get dressed quickly enough for him. I took out the dogs, fed them and the cats, made coffee, and retreated to the recovery room in hopes that everyone else would go back to sleep. Belvedere can’t seem to settle back down, though. I hope this isn’t some kind of harbinger of how the day is going to go. We all know animals feel and are aware of things humans don’t see/hear. I’d prefer not to have an anxiety-driven day.
The first part of the morning is always the most difficult. Yesterday’s meds have worn off or are wearing down. It’s too early to take today’s dose. I watch the clock, waiting for time to fix something to eat, and then pop the fun dose of chemo. Check blood sugar. Check blood pressure. Make sure you’re not dead. This is chemo life.
There are science updates in my inbox this morning. Perhaps I’ll find something suitably exciting there.
