A Spring of Joy

The past few nights have been toss and turn nights for me. Sometimes I wonder how Bri can sleep through my thrashing, but then again, Brian has slept through all six of our smoke alarms going off at the same time (no worries, it was a glitch in the wiring of our home, not a fire). My dreams were like something out of a Tim Burton movie, very strange, very disconnected, and very disturbing. I woke after every dream and would analyze myself even though I’ve always scoffed at dream interpretation. I’ve decided either I’m crazy or my imagination is overactive. I’ll accept the latter and admit I’m a lot more like Micah than I want to admit. I just keep all my musings to myself.

Speaking of Micah. He crawled in bed with us at 6:45 Sunday morning. I love when he snuggles in between us and lays his head on my shoulder. I do NOT love when he crawls in bed with us and throws up, which is what happened this particular morning. I can hear all of you reacting right now, so let me assure you, it wasn’t as awful as it sounds. Fortunately, the only mess was on his shirt, and trust me, THAT woke Brian. I’ve never seen him move as quickly as he did getting Micah to the bathroom. We cleaned up our poor boy, got him changed, and then Brian put him over on his side of the bed next to a bucket. Micah’s pitiful, “Mommy, I didn’t wike dat.” was enough to break my heart in pieces. I wonder into how many pieces a heart can be broken?

Bless his little heart, being sick like that is no fun! Honestly, Brian and I have been mercifully spared. In six years of having children in our home, we have never had them get sick and throw up until now. Our children have not been to the doctor for any sickness in the past two years, so I’m thankful. I am having to sequester myself from my children again to prevent my catching this bug, and it is painful. I want to be the one to hold Micah and make him feel all better. I want to fix his gatorade and help care for him. Although I can’t complain about not having to clean up after him. Brian has gained quite a few more points with me!

So I will stay in my room and dream about the day when I don’t have to avoid my sick children. Speaking of dreams again, I went in for labwork on Friday, and my blood counts look really good other than a mildly low red blood cell count. While one nurse was draining my finger of all its blood, another one came in. “You’re here, oh good.” she said. I couldn’t help but laugh, “Uh, not so good for me.” I responded. Returning my laugh, she said, “I had a dream about you last night.”

What in the world does it mean when your oncology nurse dreams about you? Is that a good or bad thing? What I really want to know is whether it was a dream or a nightmare? After all, this is the nurse that cried with me when she finally got my port accessed. There’s something mildly disquieting that I’ve seen her enough times that she’d dream about me. On the flip side, there’s something mildly comforting to know I’m not just a face at the cancer center. She didn’t tell me much more than the fact that I was in her dream, but now I’m overanalyzing again.

I realize how tired I am of this cacophony of insanity that fills my mind every night and during the day when I nap. I am hoping that as life begins to resume some semblance of normalcy that my dreams will do so as well. I long for the day when I can be up and around and caring for my children and visiting with friends. I am thankful for the times I do get to have with friends, and I have accepted that this is my life right now, so I will wait patiently for normalcy to return.

And in the meantime, I’ll see you in my dreams unless you see me in yours first.