Musings 9

 1. My favorite thing to do in the history of the world is getting up at 5:30, first walking to Starbucks with my Starbucks cup full of milk and ice to get my Starbucks venti iced coffee (no ice, no sweetener, no room) and then continuing to soldier on for a two or two and a half hour walk with my Mom and/or Dad (with a poop pit stop, of course, due to the Starbucks venti iced coffee with no ice, no sweetener and no room - that’s a lot of coffee at that time of morning and you know Starbucks puts more caffeine in there to get ya hooked on that sweet, sweet bean.) I’ve spent the last five months with my Mom and/or Dad non-stop because of my…“situation.” It’s just not as fun going for a morning walk by yourself (like I just got back from an hour ago) as it is to go with your Mom and/or Dad - I wish I could recognize it at the time, while I am walking with them. Sometimes I do, though…sometimes in the middle of our walk I would think to myself, “I’m gonna miss this someday - I love going for this walk this morning.” It’s a gift to be grateful for something while you’re doing it - to truly appreciate the time and place and opportunity to make memories and have fun. I definitely got a bit spoiled getting to hang out with my parents all the time for five months in a row - who gets to do that at 28 years old? Unless you live at home or have a serious medical condition. It just seems weird to me that I would be annoyed at any time by my Mom or Dad in the past five months because now that I’m all by myself once again in California, I really miss them! I should have been more thankful to get to spend that time with them - it was truly a fun time binge-watching a ton of Survivor and going for long walks in Valencia and going out to eat and just hanging out with them in the apartment while listening to podcasts and stretching out on the yoga foam roller. It was also a good distraction, always being with someone else, so I don’t have to think about my upcoming surgery or stress out about health thoughts. I’m staying at the Hilton in Calabasas til I move in to my new apartment in Northridge tomorrow afternoon (super pumped, y’all). I’ve stayed at this specific hotel on two occasions in the past - once in March for two nights with my Mom and Dad, right after I was released from the hospital after my first round of Chemo, and once ten days ago for two nights with my Dad (after we moved out of our Valencia apartment and before I went back to Bothell for my farewell tour with the ol’ house I grew up in - that’s a story for a whole other blog post). Each time I stayed at this place, it has felt like a completely different hotel, based on who I stayed with and the circumstances. This time, by myself, I am very positive and hopeful and optimistic and looking forward to a new adventure in my new apartment and also eagerly awaiting my surgery. I’m excited but also scared and stressed and missing my parents because it’s hard to be all alone with your Cancer brain fog and wild imagination about everything that could happen. Maybe everything could just go right, too - maybe everything could just be alright - you never know - that’s why they play the game.