So.... I survived. Hands down, one of the hardest weeks I've ever endured. I'm guessing my pain tolerance wasn't quite what I thought it to be because I've been hurting... A LOT.
Coming out of surgery was actually the best part of the week, I had my self a severe case of Truth Be Told, ask and I shall answer...and then some. Here are several things that spewed from my mouth with some of them prefaced with a "I really shouldn't say this but..." I just couldn't shut up!
1. I missed my Pug, cried about it too
2. I didn't miss the cat, became almost evil when I would mention her
3. I love Tootsie Rolls, ONLY specific kinds- the long skinny ones. I hate the fat ones, I hate the little ones, I hate the vanilla ones.
4. My sister has beautiful eyes
5. My sister has horrible hair
6. Daph has a weird tummy
7. I'm a mean person
8. I let my kids watch Supernatural
9. I was waiting for my pregnancy test to come back from the labs
10. I haven't had sex in 5 years.
The last three confessions were done in front of my Bishop, a sweet, kind, G rated kind of man. WHAT THE HECK WAS I THINKING??? I'm also pretty sure some of my "confessions" were just drug induced loopiness because frankly I really can't stand Tootsie Rolls.
On the serious side of my truth serum, I'm scared, I'm tired, I'm not sure I'm up to this fight. I just haven't found the oomph yet that I see all the cancer fighting people proclaim. I miss my Duane, profoundly. It's been so hard to find the peace I'm wanting when the peace I'm wanting has to do with being held by my husband. My mom has been able to give me some of the comfort that I need, my children give me a portion of my comfort, my dearest friends have given me some of that comfort but it's all lacking, Duane.
I pray to find my fight.