In the midst of a pretty big low in energy and attitude, I have to say that I am glad that I can still be of service to so many. Friends who have colds or a frustrating day, or just tired from a long week or anything that allows them to say, “I can’t really complain too much. It’s not chemotherapy. I’m not Jodi.” I’m perfectly ok taking on that role.

I remember, for years, one of my happiest days was going out to play golf with my dad.  We’d be having one of those days that you can’t make a shot and you’re wondering why you are spending the day walking around carrying a metal stick and trying to hit a stupid little white ball into a stupider tin cup. But then we would take a minute to be grateful for being together, and having a beautiful day outside, and we would say, “Hey, it’s not chemo.” So, even though I feel like suck, I know that it could be worse, and lots of people are out there feeling worse than me. I hope they won’t mind that just for today, I can be glad I’m not them.

Right now, a day of golf seems long way a way, with barely enough energy to get myself from the bathtub to the couch. Four days post chemo is always the lowest point. And this situation with my tear ducts and pending surgery, as you can imagine, has not made anything easier. I hate to say that I’m depressed, because that’s just way to depressing so I’ll just say that I’m feeling a little sorry for myself and overwhelmed. Nothing that some “Kimmy Schimdt” and painting might not help. I am trying to picture myself on the golf course this summer – not carrying how bad I’m hitting the ball – just happy to be back in the game.