The whole time I told everyone, “I’ll be home for Christmas,” and sang it, just like the song. I used to believe that I would be home. That I’d be tucking into turkey dinner at my house and opening presents under a wispy tree, like usual. Call me the eternal optimist, but I didn’t think I’d be here now. I might actually like, no, love Connecticut, except for the circumstances.
Today was so busy! I’m exhausted! I had to fast for ages, then we drove an hour to get an ultrasound. The snow is piled in places as tall as me! Crazy! No gallstones! Yes! Then I had to get blood work done and the dressing on my PICC line changed. We met these people at Dr. Jones’ office and they are coming for dinner. Isn’t this world a strange place? Disease apparently brings us together right?
I’d be totally happy to crawl into bed and hibernate. On the radio they said it was zero-degrees-Fahrenheit (I spelled it so yah could get the FULL impact!) with the wind chill factor. Which means my body could actually go into hibernation mode without me even thinking about it. Shiver shiver!
That song, “I’ll be home for Christmas”…is so sad. The soldiers knew that they wouldn’t be home for Christmas, or even home at all, but they still hoped. They still sang that lamenting melody we all know. And deep down I knew that I wouldn’t be home for Christmas. I don’t want to face that I’m sick, or just how sick I am. I will be home for Christmas, but only in my dreams.