Williamsburg, My Chair, Radiation Update
We did a short getaway to Williamsburg this past weekend, where gas is still under $4/gallon at places besides Costco. It was nice to escape and feel normal for a couple of days. Travel is a huge part of our lives as a family and we've barely gone anywhere for the past year given my health. We're hoping to hit the road for much of July, and I regarded this as a sort of warmup for the Colin. Colin was an ace traveler a year ago, but a year is an eternity to a little boy and this weekend's trip took some adjustments on his part. (In particular, the ride back home today was...unpleasant.)
Highlights included witnessing a naturalization ceremony, a great little bistro where I had an asparagus salad with poached egg and bacon lardons, going swimming with my little boy, some pretty good pulled pork at Pierce's Pitt, discussing overpriced handbags with E. while browsing the outlets, and the combo turkey/country ham sammich from the Cheese Shop.
Colin is obsessed with my desk chair. He calls it "MY chair" and races me down the stairs to get to it first whenever I'm headed to the computer. (Not fair: I'm usually carrying his sippy cup and my water bottle, and I have to stop to close the gate at the top of the stairs, giving him a generous head start.) He'll start chanting "my chair, my chair, my chair" as he goes down the steps and then he breaks into a run when he reaches the floor. Sometimes he climbs into the chair, laughing hysterically, but lately he's just flung his upper body over the seat and crowed, "MY CHAIR!" Sometimes I pick him up and place him on my lap, sometimes I kick him off, sometimes I sit on him, and sometimes I'm laughing too hard to do any of the above. E.'s no help, he agrees with Colin that this is his chair and sometimes eggs things on by instructing him, "Don't listen to Mommy!" Boys!
In radiation news, I'm halfway through. There's a spot in my throat that's sore which my radiation oncologist says is likely because they zap a tiny part of my throat during treatment. My breast is red and a little swollen but it's tolerable, particularly since I have few nerve endings left in my chest. I've taken to wearing a broad-brimmed hat (inspired by Samantha in the Sex and the City film?) to prevent myself from burning more than necessary. If this is all I face during this leg of treatment, I'll feel pretty happy about it. (I'm pretty anxious about the potential for something to go wrong, but as the days pass I worry less. I'm not close enough to the finish point to feel like I'm getting off scot-free, but I'm supercautiously indulging in some optimism here.)
Highlights included witnessing a naturalization ceremony, a great little bistro where I had an asparagus salad with poached egg and bacon lardons, going swimming with my little boy, some pretty good pulled pork at Pierce's Pitt, discussing overpriced handbags with E. while browsing the outlets, and the combo turkey/country ham sammich from the Cheese Shop.
Colin is obsessed with my desk chair. He calls it "MY chair" and races me down the stairs to get to it first whenever I'm headed to the computer. (Not fair: I'm usually carrying his sippy cup and my water bottle, and I have to stop to close the gate at the top of the stairs, giving him a generous head start.) He'll start chanting "my chair, my chair, my chair" as he goes down the steps and then he breaks into a run when he reaches the floor. Sometimes he climbs into the chair, laughing hysterically, but lately he's just flung his upper body over the seat and crowed, "MY CHAIR!" Sometimes I pick him up and place him on my lap, sometimes I kick him off, sometimes I sit on him, and sometimes I'm laughing too hard to do any of the above. E.'s no help, he agrees with Colin that this is his chair and sometimes eggs things on by instructing him, "Don't listen to Mommy!" Boys!
In radiation news, I'm halfway through. There's a spot in my throat that's sore which my radiation oncologist says is likely because they zap a tiny part of my throat during treatment. My breast is red and a little swollen but it's tolerable, particularly since I have few nerve endings left in my chest. I've taken to wearing a broad-brimmed hat (inspired by Samantha in the Sex and the City film?) to prevent myself from burning more than necessary. If this is all I face during this leg of treatment, I'll feel pretty happy about it. (I'm pretty anxious about the potential for something to go wrong, but as the days pass I worry less. I'm not close enough to the finish point to feel like I'm getting off scot-free, but I'm supercautiously indulging in some optimism here.)