I have no idea whether Brett Michaels is back in good health and that's where I feel I can relate. My road to recovery looks to be long, perhaps the toughest days are ahead. I wonder who will care when Myrtle and Faith need support the most and 'Ruban having cancer' is old news. That's not to say people don't truly care now (they do) and won't later (they will). Plus it might be unfair to compare my families life to an '80's glam hair band. I'm hopeful that unlike Poison, our little band's best days are ahead of us.
Actually the outpouring of love has been overwhelming. I'm stunned and speechless to who has reached out and how. Thank you for all the email and snail-mail.
It's humbling to be in this position. Any distance walked longer than our home I need to use crutches. Anywhere I drive I need someone driving me. My ten month old girl is beginning to move faster then me. Sitting down on a regular chair is best kept under 30 minutes. I could go on, but suffice it to say it has been an adjustment physically and emotionally since my oncologist said "There's no point to go back to work."
Being home the vast majority of the time must be a peek into what it's like living in a seniors home. Like them I spend most of the time in a recliner, read the news, scoff at idiot politicians, and I wait for people to come visit and try to talk them into staying longer (mental note: must buy more Werther's Original Hard Candy). Fortunately, as of now Myrtle is the only one in a diaper here.
Recently I read a story worth sharing: