Last night, for the first time in nearly three months, I made a venture out to somewhere where I knew no one and was there for no particular purpose and had no rush to get back. I chose to go to Barnes & Noble. Granted, while I was there I was looking for a recommended Cancer Cookbook, but for the most part I was just there with nothing particularly on my mind and no one to have to talk to about my husband's condition.
I got a coffee and I even went as far as to have a most enjoyable piece of pumpkin cheesecake while I sat in the bookstore cafe. It felt so good, so incredibly liberating to do something that I used to watch so many people do as a barista, I was just there shopping around, entertaining the idea of reading various books... sort of pretending to be something I'm not, but it was amazing.
I've always fancied myself a reader. I've also thought it'd be nice to be wonderful domesticated housewife who has wonderfully planned out delicious meals, a ridiculously clean house, and a cute apron to wear while baking my latest creation. None of the above really suit me.
To be honest, there are few books I've read front to back, I've joined online "book clubs" and bought books that I never read, I have taken many trips to various bookstores and peruse the shelves as if with purpose and usually again, buy something I won't read or don't buy anything at all. I absolutely love the romantic idea of cozying up on a couch with a cup of cocoa and a good novel, but when given the chance... I'd rather have a nap.
As far as being some sort of domestic goddess, I get upset when I clean so much and really have nothing to show for it when it gets dirty so quickly; If I put the dishes away more than three consecutive times I feel a sense of abandonment and lack of support. I love throwing clothes into the laundry, but I absolutely hate folding them and my number one blood boiler being that my efforts go unnoticed when my hard labors stay in the basket they're delivered in and just get rummaged/unfolded instead of put away. I love to cook, however with my husband's constant change of taste and whatnot, I seem to find that he asks me what's for dinner and then 99% of the time follows with what he'd rather have for dinner... and yet, when asked what he'd like three hours prior, his answer is always that he's "not fussed".
All of that to say, that I certainly do not fit the bill for the things I would like to envision in myself. Now, if I were to sort of capture what I am as opposed to what I'd like to be... I think it would end up being something of a mess: An anal retentive, tightly wound, emotional basket case of an overly organized and obsessive compulsive nutter. No one wants that do they? But last night, last night I was given the opportunity to pretend for two hours that I was everything that I am so ridiculously far from. I was a cafe going, cook book buying, novelist reading consumer.
When I left Barnes & Noble, I truly thought, "Boy I've got to do this more often!" I felt so unstressed, so unwound, treated and absolutely delighted. Then I came home and enjoyed the KFC that I stopped to pick up (as my husband preferred that over the lamb I had planned to make) and watched a few shows with my hubby and brother in law... the night was great. Until I went to bed.
In bed my husband simply asked me for a back scratch... a back scratch. Something so simple, but the fact that it was to make him "feel better" which must have suddenly reminded me of everything, I completely and 110% fell apart. I was in hysterics and my husband was there to calm me and I just couldn't stop crying. I told him how I felt at Barnes & Noble and how it'd been SO long since I'd felt the feeling of normality and how completely and utterly stressful it is to just deal with day to day things anymore.
It was a rather weak moment as I cried and complained about how overwhelmed I get, especially when he's having moments of pain or sickness and I have to sit bedside in the hospital and watch him in complete agony with there being absolutely nothing I can do to help. The worst being that sometimes I feel so alone, because I have to be the strong one (not the ridiculously sobbing one) for him and when it comes to updating friends and family no one is going to want to hear how it really is....What it all boiled down to was how this moment in Barnes & Noble reminded me of what was and what some day will be again, and how I just absolutely cannot wait for our lives to be normal again. That said, this week marks the half way point of his chemo... HOORAY!!! So now, just to cross our fingers that next week's marrow test comes back 100% in the clear of leukemia so that we can keep on with the chemo and not have to do a bone marrow transplant.
Also to note in the moment of weakness, I realized how amazing my husband is as he held me and comforted me while I calmed down and got it all off of my chest and returned to the usual. I think that was a long time coming, felt much better this morning.
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