A good day, not a bitchin' day but a good day.

So I really, wanted to have some punch to my day. You know one of those days that flows and gives you a great sense of purpose and accomplishment. Where you are on the hairy edge of OCD mania, but without the bone deep craziness. I started out OK, got Doug off with plenty of good food, took Franky for his morning walk and straightened up the house and then I just stagnated, sort off bumping into each thing that I wanted to get done and careening off of it back to my chair and the computer to check out Facebook or my email for the umpteenth time. I finally succeeded in making a raw blueberry pie with whipped cashew cream and raw "baked" mac and cheese. I emptied the compost, cleaned up dog poop and washed many dishes and cleaned counters and blogged, but I never did get the annual newsletter written or the guest room cleaned up (though, I did walk into it and realized that it was fine the way it was) or the bills paid on line. So I had to accept that it was a good day, not a passionate, bitchin' or kick ass day but a good one none the less. Ken and Judy stopped by for supper, and that kicked the day up a couple of notches. We had a wonderful time eating the food I had prepared and catching up on each others lives. We also discussed our similar thoughts about the state of the world from medicine to politics, a lively discussion. We ended the evening with a short walk around the block and hugs. Judy had filled the dishwasher for me and Doug got the food ready to go back into the fridge. So it ended well and I find myself still wishing that I had possessed some of the oomph that was lacking today. I spoke to Isis this afternoon, she knew exactly what I was talking about, she has had days like this too. It felt validating talking to her about it, but made it more pronounced also. I realize as I write this that I have been so happy and energized in the past week or so, working with private clients and connecting and being of service at the center, that anything less feels a little dull and blunted. I know that this is a small thing and not all that important in the general scheme of things, but it really bothered me for some odd reason. A reason that I am sure will reveal itself as I am ready to discover it.
So, we are gearing down with the treatments, not because the doctor said we were, but because Doug is done, he doesn't want to keep this up. He wants to eat cooked food more and more, he doesn't want to drive 72 miles a day every day and he wants the feeling back in his fingers and feet. He also wants to start work January 8th. So the next couple of weeks will be interesting as we transition from being a full time cancer treatment family to a part time one and with both of us working, he full time, me part time. I am also in the process of getting together every thing that I will need to continue Doug's IV therapy and to start Isis' therapies in January and possibly Oceana's also. I have to slow down my fears of not being able to pull this off and to concentrate on getting the job done. It is a place that I abhor and one I have been in more than once in my life. That maybe why I get slightly scared when I have a day like today, because I know that I will not be able to get this job done without that extra push that come from whatever it was that I was missing from my day today. It is also scary because it reminds me of how three decades ago I used to use this same blah, blunted, no direction feeling as an excuse to abuse narcotics. Narcotics because I had noticed how regardless of how much pain I might have been in when using them as prescribed, that they gave me a burst of energy that I could focus into accomplishing things, many things, fast. Of course I do have to remind my dear precious self that I was also incapable of making any good decisions and I certainly couldn't have done the work that brings me so much joy and fills me with passion. Interesting how a regular good, not great day could bring all these things to mind.