Sleepless Night

Yesterday, after work, I literally jumped into bed for a one hour nap before Sofie came home. I was that tired. Which is kind of the chronic state of my current life. I have become a pro napper, me who hardly ever napped in my previous life, because it wasted time. Now, give me a flat surface, a cozy blanket and I am out cold.

So when I went to sleep last night, at a reasonable hour (after watching Weeds), I thought falling back to sleep would be easy. But instead, I was awake for hours. Sort of, in that twilight state where you doze off and then find yourself awake again. Thinking.

Today, in a few hours, I will see Dr. Valea in clinic. And we will be discussing the most recent CT, the rapid growth of this thing, and what can I expect. I am really scared this time. I cannot slow it down and it is apparently growing way faster than I thought. Which explains a lot (pressure on my bladder, for example, which is downright annoying) and which might mean that I have to accelerate my "life plan" a lot. Not fair. I had just gotten it to a point where it felt like it was real, not a National Geographic travel plan, but a short list of a few things I would love to do plus time with friends and family, which is the real deal.

I have, as those of you who read Jamie's blog know, started to give things away. This is a creepy yet wonderful thing, because I can see people appreciating something I pass along to them, which is different than simply distributing my possessions after I die. But it is a bit creepy too. For both myself and probably the recipient. So doing it carefully. So far, I have given away some purses and jewelry, a briefcase (to a colleague who is rising in her career, and was the first person I met at the Library three years ago), and my guest room bed and linens to a woman who lost hers in a recent fire.

This "shedding" is a positive thing to do, but it doesn't really help me deal with the mounting fear. That time is zipping by and that I don't have much left. I hope that I am wrong, but I am afraid that I am not.

Sofie came into my bed (as she has been doing most early mornings) about 4 AM today. Woke me for a few minutes, but then, with her snuggled next to me, I drifted back to sleep until the alarm went off at 6 AM. There is nothing quite like being next to her to warm my heart...even if she is kicking her legs in five directions.

The cleaning folks are coming and I have to do the "pick up for the clean up" this AM, before Sofie wakes and the routine of the day starts. I did Sofie's room last night, but the pile on the coffee table is daunting. Typically I scoop it all up and pile it until the cleaning is done, then sort and toss things. Story of my life these days, the tossing of things. It is weird to throw out stuff I worked on, even if it was ten plus years ago, knowing I won't ever have to show it to a potential client or employer. It is just stuff, but it is still weird. But better for me to clear out all this stuff than leave it for Jamie and others to do after. Do most people prepare for their deaths this way or am I being perverse?

All these things are distractions, really, from the fear. But who says distractions are bad?

I will write more after the visit, if I can.