Full Disclosure: I’m feeling very whiney and complainy today. You may want to skip this.

It’s Monday, March 11. Last week, we were at Duke Tuesday and Wednesday. Mr. Wonderful had a biopsy Tuesday, treatment Wednesday. Simple enough. Or was it (in my best Keith Morrison dateline voice)? Biopsy – failed. Treatment – nearly failed. Poor Mr. Wonderful was poked no less than 5 times trying to find some viable tissue. They couldn’t find any using ultrasound, which I guess is good, means some of the tumor is dying I think but also means we need to do a repeat this week with a CT scan with contrast (whoa that’s a lot of very medically things). Next day, Wednesday, is treatment day. We reschedule the biopsy for this Tuesday (as in tomorrow). We head to the lab for blood work. Oh, more good news, Mr. Wonderful’s port isn’t working properly. No worries, they say, it just needs to be flushed they say. Could take up to 4 hours to flush, they say. Then they can do treatment, they say.

Well, Mr. Wonderful has one of those really invasive, quickly spreading go-f-yourself cancer’s where treatment is 3 times a month for 5 hours at at time. A short day on a good day, it is not! And now you’re telling us, no worries, just add 4 more hours to your day, then drive your exhausted asses home for 4 hours. Sure! Sounds great! Thank all the Gods there are for nurses! Those beautiful souls took pity on our poor, pathetic faces and asked Mr. Wonderful if he was willing to receive his treatment through an IV while they flush the port simultaneously! YES! DO THAT! We all but screamed!! And they did and it was all fine and we even made it home in time to yell at our kids before they went to bed! The plan was to love on them, which we did, but then we yelled at them for you know doing what kids do when they’re supposed to go to bed and don’t want to and just take it upon themselves to climb up the whiles instead!

So, anyway, we made it home, yelled at our kids, watched Vikings, went to bed and continued on our normal business as usual.

Speaking of business, we’re trying to sell ours. It hasn’t been open in months. We don’t have the time, energy or customer service attitude to run it ourselves. Our employees (the good ones anyway) were all part time so we can’t have them run it for us. And it’s just time to let it go. There are people talking to us about it. We have it priced to MOVE and I do mean PRICED TO MOVE. It’s a stressor.

Parenting is a stressor.

Cancer is a stressor.

Selling the business is a stressor.

I just feel stressed. And I feel like complaining. And today I feel like crying.

It was my 4 year old’s special day at school today. He brings show and tell and provides his favorite snack for the whole class. He loves his special day. Mainly for the show and tell. Guess who totally forgot? If you said this girl, you are the winner winner chicken dinner. Just kidding, there’s no dinner. I have no food in my house. And no time to go to the grocery store. Because I’m either driving to Duke, at Duke, driving home for Duke or meeting with people that probably won’t buy my business. (see the complaining happening here – I warned you).

The real kicker about forgetting my kid’s snack is that his wonderfully kind, generous, beautiful and all-around amazing teacher let me hand pick the day I wanted to bring snack because of the schedule we now live on. The hilarious part is that all weekend, I kept thinking “what is Monday” “I know I have something to do Monday” and it never once dawned on me, helllooooo, it’s Colt’s special day, go get some damn string cheese and apple slices, not that complicated ding-bat! But, alas, it was complicated to me. And I failed. And I hate to fail.

Now I must go get the other child from school. Perhaps I won’t fail at that, although who knows, maybe I’ll see a butterfly and totally forget him too. I think I have sympathy chemo brain…