Normal

I love normal.  Normal is the world you make. It is the day-to-day life that you have worked to have.  I never wished to be a celebrity, or someone who gets  interrupted by passerby, or worse be stalked or photographed by someone unknown to you.  My normal life was lovely and delightfully chaotic -the girls, their school schedule, the dogs, my work, breakfast out with my husband a few times during the week, dinner with the family, bedtime kisses, tucking-in, sleeping in my own bed.  My normal was far from perfect, and certainly had more days out of balance than I would have liked.  Work winning the time battle was always stressful.  Trying to balance my home, family, friends, and work was a daily internal tug-o'-war, but it was my normal. 

Cancer obliterates normal in ways unimaginable.  I was listening to a boy at MSK today saying his Make-A-Wish would be to get back to school, sports, friends and his own house.  Everyday, all of that stuff that he loved to complain about, and loved to love.  The girl he was talking to said she'd make that same wish, she did not want to be a full-time patient anymore.  They miss their normal.  

The cancer journey is a tough one on just about every level, but I am grateful that I get to have the chance to travel it.  Before we left home for NYC on Sunday, I heard on the news that a man around my age was driving home when a tree fell across the road, struck him in his car and he died.  That is a tragedy.  In an instant, without the time or ability to fight, he was gone.  A phone call to his family by a stranger and normal is changed forever for them.  No time to prepare, or even say goodbye.     
  
I really miss my old normal.  My old normal did not involve being bald, crutches, lab tests, surgeries, and perhaps the hardest thing, seeing my family and friends worry about me, adjust their schedules and lives around my doctor and hospital visits, and generally sacrifice their own normal. As a Mother, I am happy and capable in the role and duties of caretaker, but to be the one being cared and adjusted for is humbling.  

I am immeasurably grateful to have the chance to fight this fight, to be shown love, to have great doctors, to have family and friends that care enough to be there for me in ways that surprise me and warm my soul.  But the loss of normal is one of the hardest losses to accept, as it affects everyone I love and their own, beloved normal.

Thank you for reading my blog and enduring my ramblings.  Thank you most of all for interrupting your normal to make my new normal more familiar by being on this strange journey with me.