Haze.

Blogger is messed up today and won't let me post pictures or links. So, I guess this is just a story telling day.

Wayne is having chemo as I type this. His port access is good (a port is a device inserted surgically under his skin to act as an instant IV to administer chemo).

He left this morning with a smile.

I cried and could not look at him.

He has texted me already to tell me things are going slow but good.

We have two weeks of this.

I have no idea how he is going to feel. Or if he will want to eat.

So, I wander around the house in a haze.

Should let my OCD cleaning tendencies kick in but I don't have the energy.

Should do laundry but I am not.

Claire has a fever. I am doing lots of baths to cool her off.

Caeden cried and cried this morning when he woke up when I told him Wayne was starting chemo again (for those who don't know, he has been on break for 5 months). That usually means a sick Dad, a distracted, stressed out Mom, and a lot of talk that children shouldn't have to hear, like, "Well, at least this time I don't have a drip line of Doxirubicin, so the kids can sit near me."

I walk around the house, with so much to do, but completely bogged by down by what I am thinking about.

Is this really our life?

Yesterday I called my Mom. I mostly cried but she still listened to me. I told her how I wasn't doing a good job at anything and I didn't think I had it in me to be what everyone needs me to be.

She said I just needed to go get a cup of coffee and regroup. She will be here in a week to help us all do things like that.

Thank GOD for Mom. Totally brings me back down to earth with a good laugh and some perspective to face the world with.

And Wayne. He is ready. And prepared. And doing it.

And so I walk around in a useless haze, trying to get my act together.

Lovely.