Can't Be Counted On

Everyone has good days and bad days. There are days for all of us when we feel full of energy and inspired to get stuff done. Then there are days when we just feel like crawling back in bed.

With cancer, on chemo, everything is amplified a bit. It's not that I have days where I feel extra energy. But there are certainly days when I just can't do much of anything.

I try hard to be "normal" and live life like everyone else around me. It's good for me personally. It's good for my overall physical and mental health. And I do try to portray a strong image for all the wonderful people who surround me with so much support - so they don't worry about me.

Most of the time I think I'm pretty good with getting on with life, even though I get poison infused into my system every Friday. But there are times when I just can't answer the bell.

Across a series of events over the past few weeks I've been reminded about how sometimes I just can't do everything I'd like to, everything I used to do. As much as I want to be "normal," as much as I want people to treat me as "normal," there are going to be times when I just can't be counted on.

It does disappoint me. I want to be counted on. I want to be relied upon in the worst way. I've built a reputation throughout my entire life as someone who can be trusted, as someone who always comes through.

On one hand I hope that people will still hold me to that regard. On the other hand I hope people understand.

I don't know if anyone saw 60 Minutes last week. They had a story on how doctors had begun experimenting connecting paralyzed peoples' brains to computers. It was amazing. One man could write by thinking of letters one at a time. A paralyzed woman could control her wheelchair just by thought. Imagine where we'll be in 100-years.