You know, I want to pretend I'm fine, mentally. I am not consciously freaked out by the cancer diagnosis, and I objectively know that in all likelihood my doctors will be able to remove it and I'll be just peachy-keen healthy, maybe even one week from tomorrow.
But I think about it all the damn time, and that gets in the way of my normal, somewhat crazy schedule. I manage to do the critical things (get the kids to and from school, pack my tickets and passport for the trip tomorrow, eat). But my last week at work was shockingly unproductive. Usually I pride myself on being reliable, on getting stuff done, on meeting my promises, but I've forgotten numerous important things in annoying ways.
I was supposed to be a guest on the Canadian Podcast Buffet podcast tonight, and I never even thought of it when the time came and went, only remembering when I got the "are you joining us?" email far too late. Last week one of my old freelance clients asked for a bit of editing, and I said yes, and then completely forgot until she phoned me today, so I'm working on it now. I was supposed to arrange for a couple of guys at work to go to the Web Directions North conference, but I forgot to do that too and now it will be more expensive for them to register. And so on.
I never quite understood when people said, "I'd forget my own head if it weren't attached." Now I get it. In fact, I wish I could forget my own colon, but it too remains resolutely attached.
So, sorry everyone, but I'm gonna cut myself a whole big reel of slack on this one. I like to pretend I'm fine, physically and mentally. But I'm not. I'm going to have fun this week, and then I have the minor surgery, and then I hope it's all over.
And yet, you know, there's a chance it might not be. And that's one of the things I'm thinking about, even when I don't notice I'm thinking about it, and that shunts other things out of my brain. Which is why I'm a little off the rails.