It's way later than I need to be up but I'm not sleepy. I can see the half-moon out my office window, shining through the bare tree branches. Today has been a roller-coaster day and I find myself on the edge of tears here at the end of it, an inevitable reaction, I suppose, to the high-flying glee I felt earlier. But it surprises me, nonetheless.
I'm having a lot of trouble adjusting to life after surgery. As pissed as I am about the cancer, I'm finding it much easier to deal with than the goddamn ostomy, and some days--today, for instance--it seems like way too much of my attention is focused on that hated thing.
I don't look sick, mostly I don't feel sick, and I can tralala along and forget that I do have this disease for awhile--until I have to deal with the ostomy, the outwardly visible sign of illness. Yes, I know I should be grateful, that without it I'd be dead, bla bla y bla. I am grateful to be alive. I am not particularly grateful that part of the cost of being alive is having to wear an appliance (yes, that's what they call them) for the rest of my (hopefully very long) life. I mean, honestly, isn't stage IV cancer cost enough?