Rough one

Today was a not so great day. I've had trouble sleeping, and this morning, it really got to me. I've had occasional sleepless nights before, but never a full-blown case of insomnia. It had me worried that there's something wrong, and of course one bad thought leads to another when you can't get to sleep. Did I overdoo it exercising? How can I have a "normal" life if I'm too tired to go to work? If I can't work, what about my insurance? And so on. Maybe I should have called the cancer center's hotline myself when it started to get to me early this morning, but I let Mom do it late this morning after we'd both gotten some sleep. Turns out one of my nausea drugs I can take if I have just insomnia. It should say "or" on the label, not "and." Thanks, drug companies.

I think the hardest part of it was having to ask for help. It's not that easy, especially when you learned to rely on yourself at a young age. I'd come home for lunch during grade school and there'd be no one there, so I'd make my own lunch and make sure I left in time to go play with my friends at recess. It'd be Mom & Dad's bowling night, so my brother and I were left on our own many evenings to keep ourselves occupied (remember the big, green ashtray, bro?). I taught myself to ride a bicycle. So having to ask someone for help means I'm at a place I'm not comortable being. And it's hard to admit I'm there, especially this soon.

Fortunately, Mom's been real understanding. Get mad if I have to, cry if I have to, she said. But you know what? It's really hard to have a good cry when you've got a cute dog who'll lick your tears away.