Sometimes living changed isn’t about the application of the wonderful things that can come out something wretched. Sometimes living changed means that everything is changed because of that wretched thing and then living in what’s left.

I was hand-writing a note today and noticed just how much my hand was hurting. 15 words later…my joints were stiff and my hand ached. But there was more to write.

I was lifting some boxes because of a remodel we’re doing at the office. 2 boxes later…I could hardly move. But there was more moving to be done.

I was blurry-eyed all day today, frustrated at how the constant watery-ness changes how I see. 24 tissues and I-lost-count eye dabs later…my eyes are tired and burning. But my eyes aren’t done working.

I was supposed to go to a volleyball practice tonight. But I had to say no. 

No because of my body’s limitations and I can only do so much in a day now. 

No because I have my huge exam on Saturday and my brain needs all of the possible time it can get since it doesn’t retain stuff the way it used to.

No because “what’s left” isn’t much and I have to live in that, changed…whether I like it or not. 

*Post 1038

(No post for 2/2/18)

Tamoxifen :: 2/2/19 :: Post 508

Achy and arthritic. 

Super dry skin. 

Incredibly thirsty. 

Headachy.

Night sweats and hot flashes.

Insomnia tendencies.

Uncomfortable in my own skin.

Brain fog.

Intensely emotional. 

And I feel like they filled me with cement when they took out my uterus.

24/7.

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For 10 years? Will that be so?

(No post for 2/2/20)