I’ve seen the oncologist and the radiologist…I will have a genetics test ran on the 25th, a PET Scan on the 28th and my first round of chemo on the 29th. I know the plan…the folks involved…the dangers…the success rate…the hairloss…the nausea…the tiredness…what I don’t know is when normal will happen again. The little one is back this week…we’ve marked her calendar so she knows what days she will be here…we’ve talked about how the really strong medicine will make Nanny (me) bald like her Daddy and how Nanny’s hair will come back but Daddy’s won’t…this conversation ended with giggles…even with all that, it’s not a normal day anymore…the c word lingers in my mind, every ache or pain comes with the thought of the PET Scan lighting up like a Christmas Tree and the chances of survival then will be less…everyday I think about this journey and wonder…my blood pressure keeps rising and I keep trying to talk it down…find your happy place…find your happy place…but the c word has invaded every space of my thoughts…it’s worked it’s way into every conversation and I’m longing for normal…boring…ordinary days…discussing the weather…tv…anything but how I feel or how I think I’m supposed to feel…because even though I’m upbeat most of the time, I’m human all of the time and I can’t always think it will be okay…so when you talk to me, ask me if I think it’ll rain, not if I think I’ll be alright…