Zombie Mom

My adorable daughter and son-in-law were here yesterday for a brief but energetic visit. While they applied their youthful talents to taking over the Farmers' Market booth in the morning and baking a terrific eggplant quiche for supper, I mostly snoozed on the sofa.

I didn't particularly want to snooze. I would have loved to play some Scrabble or venture out for a walk despite the rain, but nasty side effects that keep me sprinting to the bathroom all night long combined with the drugs intended to head off these same side effects leave me a little lacking in alertness during the day.

I take comfort in knowing that the current round of awful side effects should ease up pretty soon. Meanwhile, I've developed a sure-fire method of keeping my overactive gray cells from wandering off into the morass of worry when I'm awake in the night: I plan events to liven up my post-cancer life. Some nights I lie awake assembling the guest list for my Posse Party or compiling menus composed entirely of foods I can't eat right now: big fat burritos, jalapeno poppers, hot fudge sundaes, and cheese, lots of cheese.

Or I plan a trip. It really doesn't matter where since it's a pipe dream, but I may as well make it a nice trip. So I lie awake working on a road trip along the Pacific Coast Highway from Big Sur to Monterey and then proceeding north to visit friends in San Francisco and Portland and perhaps going all the way to Seattle.

After all that late-night wandering, it's no wonder I'm Zombie Mom by morning. Even imaginary trips can be exhausting.

One of these days I'll figure out how to bring back pictures. Meanwhile, I plan.