I was so upset after reading what a friend is going through, I'd forgotten, for a moment, my own niggling (and comparatively trivial) issues—bloody toes, skin flare-ups on both calves, eyebrows falling out, still coughing, etc. Sometimes there's nothing to do but get in the bath. In the bath one can cry, wallow in one's failures and miseries, wonder repeatedly what caused our bodies to betray us, imagine all the dirt and disease washed away by the water and soap, compose letters to our loved ones that we hope we have time to write or at least enact, and realize that sometimes, there's just no getting away from feeling completely alone.
As sad and sorry as we may feel for our caregivers and those around us, there just seem to be so many, many things in our (well, mine, anyway) hearts that have no outlet. I don't know if it's fear or loneliness or frustration or weariness or all of it and more, but cancer is such a lonely road. I just can't describe it. There are so many tiny things that frustrate, never mind the daily grind of being ill ten different ways (or more). Maybe one only thinks of these things when well enough, but I suspect that if you're alert and your brain is working, not too drugged up, you're thinking/feeling those thousand things. I recall blurting things out of the blue, in the beginning. The musings were met with sympathetic but puzzled looks. One's brain becomes a never-ending series of non-sequiturs.
I'm in a funk. Someone just scratched the entire side of my car (parked out in front of the house). Hubby is pissed and determined to move back to Alameda or start house hunting again. Rents are ridiculously high now, I suspect due to foreclosures. I don't have the stomach to house hunt again, especially as his travels show no signs of slowing. I feel weary, but perhaps that's due to the flu. Or maybe, it's because I have cancer. Yeah…
There's a disconnect somewhere. I'm worried, bummed out, and our house sounds like a war zone (gaming in surround sound). I'm sitting in the kitchen writing this while I cook corned beef and cabbage. It's cold out and I'm ready for spring and sunshine and warmth.
One Step Beyond 
and here I am reading this post and really feeling that first paragraph …thanks for the honesty. Here's to Spring!
*hugs* we don't know each other – but i try to never miss any of your posts. and with each read, i try to send out positive energy. yes – as jp wrote, here's to spring. it's just around the corner.
The Sweedish Princess Suite is available at our leisure. No reservations necessary. I just love you.