Limbo

Have I mentioned how impatient I am? Yes, here I am again, waiting.

I signed a lease on my new apartment, but without furniture or possessions, I haven't moved in. I didn't know what furniture I'd need, and didn't want to be lugging it around, so my furniture was either rented out with my house in Alabama, or put in long-term storage when I still thought I was going to Hawaii. I've bought a bed and will be looking at some other (used) furniture this week, but it's expensive to furnish an entire apartment all at once - even a relatively small and shared one.

My other household goods are en route, hopefully to arrive sometime this week. Until then, and particularly after having lived like a transient in Alabama for a couple of weeks in between leaving school in Rhode Island and getting orders out here (since I didn't know from day to day how long I'd be staying in Alabama, since I needed to be ready to go at moment's notice, and since I needed to keep my house ready to rent out immediately upon my departure, I slept on the floor in a sleeping bag in an empty house for two weeks, with not much more in the refrigerator than a couple beers and some condiments) - until then, I'm waiting. I have little desire to resume a life of semi-privation while I await my stuff...nor am I eager to purchase new sheets, towels, kitchen utensils, and other accoutrements of domesticated life, when I know that all of that will be arriving post-haste. I hope.

Until then, I've lingered in my airport hotel. The bed is comfortable, the towels fresh, the location not too inconvenient; and if I manage it correctly, the free breakfast lasts me most of the day. Not that it's cheap; but for the time being, the scales are tipped slightly in favor of its worth.

Most of all, I hate waiting because I want to get treated and move on. It's particularly unnerving to observe the hungry pace at which the cancer appears to be spreading, while I wait. Less than five months ago, I noticed the first lump. Now there are several, in at least two locations on my body (meaning Stage II, at a minimum). I still have few symptoms, but that's hardly reassuring. My bone marrow scan is set for May 16, with the other staging appointments still to be scheduled. So the earliest I could see the doctor for a treatment plan would be a week past that, and the earliest start for treatment would be yet another week - almost into June, then.

Did I mention I'm impatient?