Ashes

I’ve been swearing like a sailor lately. For no other reason than the kids are a bit older and they know not only what each cuss word means, but that they aren’t allowed to use them (unless on the family bed or to ask questions or…well, under circumstances we’ve agreed upon as a family).

I’ve also discovered how much I missed cherry blow pops and rock candy and the sugar from candy has essentially made up the bulk of my diet for the past year.

When you are feeling sorry for yourself you can come up with a million reasons why one more lollipop is entirely deserved after the crap-deck you’ve been dealt. And in the absence of a good hug or your hand held, a lollipop is better than a balanced lunch. Throw in a few swear words while your knees buckle and your body aches and well…here we are.

So I’m evoking my right as a recovering Catholic to give up swearing and candy for Lent. I figure I need to start somewhere and Lent has always been a fantastic excuse.

I didn’t get off to the best of starts. On this first day of Lent I had a grande chai tea latte with coconut milk for breakfast. Thai coconut soup for lunch. A few fat-free devil’s food cake cookies and london broil and asparagus for dinner. Oh, and about 2 ice teas and a Coke. Normally I don’t drink pop very often, so I know that won’t be an issue but tea… tea is another story. Why can’t they make a water that takes like tea?

The worst part of all of this? Cushing’s Syndrome.

It won’t make a damn bit of difference if I eat candy all day or if I eat carrots. Cushing’s.

Which leads me to evoke my recovering Catholic status yet again and fall back on old superstitions like medals from saints and rosary beads in my purse and even an Ave Maria pendent blessed by the new Pope.

Why?

Because I’m somewhere between having lost my mind and am entirely stir crazy fighting this battle.

Yes, there is hope. Yes, things are progressing. Yes, the new medication seems to be helping…we think.

But I think after 4 hospital stays in the past .. what…. 8 weeks? It isn’t too much to just ask for a little bit of peace. Of hope. Of yes, solace and safety and love.

I’m tired. So tired of all of it. I can see light at the end of the tunnel but the tunnel is so damn far away.

Yeah, I said damn. Chalk up another quarter to the swear jar. Good thing I’m just a recovering Catholic or I’d have to go to confession.