I’m tired.
Tired of 7AM dentist appointments so I won’t miss work. Every week, the receptionist asks me where I’m going afterwards, and I wearily say “to work.”
Tired of virtual doctor appointments during my lunch breaks.
Tired of not being able to take sick time because my body hates me today. Because then I may run out and not have the days to take when I’m actually sick.
Tired of budgeting my time to make sure I don’t over commit with what limited energy I have.
Tired of analyzing the guest list, to see if they will be COVID compliant people, or conspiracy theorists. Because I still have to protect myself, even if the rest of the world can do as they wish.
Tired of being grabbed and forced into a hug.
Tired of understanding when my boss isn’t super emotional about his 94 year old grandma passing away, and then apologizes for not sounding more sad. Cancer has made me much more callous to old death, and much more emotional to young death.
Tired of the long list of friends I won’t see at CancerCon. That I have missed every year since I’ve started going…and the list grows each year.
Tired of remembering the fun memories with friends, who are no longer on this earth.
Tired of knowing more and more people getting diagnosed with cancer.
Tired that there is a community that needs this space and magazine. Cancer sucks.
Tired of knowing a pile of generous and kind older people at my church, through our cancer group. I shouldn’t be part of this group.
I’m tired of being sick.
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