I'm not good with not having plans. I don't know whether I'll have a new job next year or not, so I don't know whether I'm moving during the summer or staying here for another year. Which means I don't know whether I can sign up for summer classes. Whether I should be buying boxes and tape, or if I should get a coffee table that fits nicely into my current living room if I see one at a good price. Whether I can stock up on frozen food if it's on sale, or if I should be trying to eat through the stuff that's in my freezer. Should I be trying to digitize some of my current lessons plans, for teaching the same class again next year, or should I be reading through new books to see how they introduce totally different material? Exploring new places around here, or learning about a totally new city? I had a typed schedule for my trip to France several weeks before I left. This kind of uncertainty does not sit will with me, and it's just making me antsy.

Channel that antsy, and start a new hobbie. Learn crochet. Or guitar. Or geocache.

Oh, erin, I'm so glad you have a diagnosis at last! I've been worried about you. I hope the treatment affords you some relief.

askye, yeah, I hate that stuff. Especially because I am the customer you are training for. I often come in and have a very specific, perhaps off-label use case for what I want to do, and the employees quite frequently blaze right past what I'm saying. I'm a geek! I have an extensive set-up! I know what I mean when I say I'm trying to get my NAS to communicate with my whole-house media system! Please, just tell me where the dongle is that I need to make it work together.

Hil, I empathize. But try and keep your eye on your longer term goals. If this new opportunity comes through, it will make for an improvement in your life, so it will be worth the intermediary uncertainty and inconvenience. I'm like you, though. I really want to know with a lot of notice, and that's just not how life functions for me.

Channel that antsy, and start a new hobbie. Learn crochet. Or guitar. Or geocache.

Hmm. I sort of know how to play guitar, (meaning, I can play any song that only involves C, A, D, E, Em, Am, and G chords and basic strumming, and where the listener doesn't mind a bit of a pause at every chord change), but I haven't played in a while, because it's just been too cold all winter, and my fingers were too stiff. Definitely need to build up those calluses again.

Hil, I empathize. But try and keep your eye on your longer term goals. If this new opportunity comes through, it will make for an improvement in your life, so it will be worth the intermediary uncertainty and inconvenience.

True. And if it doesn't, I'm starting to make some friends here, and I can sign up for an art class later in the summer, and the local pool has a water slide.

So I need to take next Tuesday off to go with Hubby as they take out his port and put in the direct lines in his neck, which he has been dreading and having nightmares about. And my first response was "Dammit, I'm not going to have enough vacation days to take my post-hurricane-season break in October."

I hate myself a bit at the moment. I'm not worried about how this is going to upset him, I'm not thinking about them moving forward with the bone marrow pulls and his immune system disappearing, I'm just worried about my damned vacation. And having to deal with Kara, his daughter, who is willing to drive us up there and keep me company (cue standard rant about not wanting anyone nearby while I'm in a waiting room).

And we need to buy a car, and I have my own cataract surgery in two weeks, and I'm sucking at the grown-up thing at the moment.

My tablet's word anticipation program automatically pulls up Chemo as the first choice when I put in the letter C. And it knows the name of the cancer center in Salt Lake. Cool, but dreadful.

I'm having a sucking-at-being-a-grownup day too, Connie. Blah.

I think you deserve to give yourself a break if sometimes you're thinking more about how all this shit affects you than how it affects your Hubby. It doesn't mean you don't love him and worry about him; clearly you do. It just means that this is all a huge strain on you too.

Sometimes all you can focus on is a small thing.

And the schedule has just been thrown out the window. Starting next week it's daily trips to Salt Lake for three-hour bone marrow harvests for two weeks. And then, 1st week of June, he goes into isolation for a month.

And if the worst happens, I won't have to plan a funeral. He's going for research, he's signed documents for that. That's actually a relief to me.