Mindless

Ok, I totally get why I might have been a little scatter-brained yesterday.  I admit I had a few things on my mind.  I don’t know if I can solely blame my distraction for needing four attempts before successfully leaving Hoboken yesterday morning.  Chemo brain may be rearing it’s ugly head again.  The lack of caffeine probably didn’t help any either.

I had an uneventful morning.  I remembered to skip breakfast and beverages in advance of the scan.  Since it had been three months since I’d seen Aloysius (and three days since I last bathed) I thought a shower might be in order.  As I was getting dressed, I remembered to wear a sports bra so that I wouldn’t have to change into one of those horrible gowns before my trip through the machine.  Somehow, in the thirty seconds between getting the bra on and putting a shirt over it, I forgot about the no metal rule…pulled on my jeans without batting and eye.  I didn’t pick up on that mistake until my first pee break during the contrast medium guzzle-a-thon.

I left a bit early to run some errands and move the car.  Keys, check.  Phone, check.  Cancer card, check.  Down the stairs I flew.  I was almost to the bus stop, before I smacked my head and turned around to find the car.  I did manage to find the car first try so that ought to earn me a few extra points.  I turned the corner and a perfect spot opened up.  I was back in the game!

Collecting my items from the car, I patted my pockets to make sure I wasn’t locking the keys in the car – again.  As I headed to the bus stop, I mulled my route over in my head.  I figured since I was going into town anyway, I’d stop and pick up my new glasses.  I had allotted plenty of time…but forgot the receipt.  Back to the apartment and up the stairs.

Receipt in hand, I headed out the door again.  I faltered at the intersection.  Crap, I forgot to put on deodorant.  Maybe if I didn’t walk too fast I just wouldn’t break a sweat.  I trudged onward and watched for the next bus.  As I settled in on the bench, I pulled out my Metrocard holder to get my ticket in hand.  Doh.  Empty.  No sweat, I’d just use cash.  And what’s in the wallet?  Only my eyeglasses receipt.  Shee it.  As the bus rounded the corner, I turned back to the house.

I sprinted up the stairs, through the door, and into the bathroom to remedy my funk faux pas.  After slathering on a whopping dose of my deodorant, I paused in the bedroom a moment debating bringing a jacket along with me.  Checking my watch, I decided against it and flew out the door again.  I made it all the way back to the bus stop before sticking my hand in my pocket to retrieve the change for the bus.  The bus that was turning the corner.  The change that was still sitting in the living room.  Sigh.

Eventually I did manage to successfully gather the appropriate belongings, and necessary currency to board the bus.  Sure it was a half hour later than I had intended, but if traffic moved smoothly I’d still have plenty of time to tackle all my tasks.  I settled into the back seat of the bus and reached into my bag for my magazine.  Ah yes, on the coffee table, of course.  I mused that my period might be reeking havoc on my little brain in addition to all the other distractions.  Shit.  My period.  I’d left the house without a pad.  Somehow I’d totally spaced after getting out of the shower.  It’s a wonder I found my way into Manhattan!

So I have the scans done, see my favorite oncologist, get the fantastic news…and almost vomit from the relief.    My friend and I have a little dinner since eating something seemed prudent, and I sludge home to crash from an exhausting and trying day.  I woke this morning well rested, cancer free, and ready to tackle all the things I’ve been putting off the past week.  Why am I still as functional as a crack head?  The brain should be firing on all cylinders, right?  So how did I make it halfway down the pier before realizing I was still in my pajama bottoms?


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