did I mention this week sucked

So it is Saturday, and I have never been so happy to see the end of a work week. Every day this past week I had thought I wasn't going to make it - I was exausted from overtime and really having a lot of pain issues - even more than usual. I had thought, however irrational it may seem, that once I was done with chemo my pain would go away. This has not been the case. In fact, *this* week, it felt worse.
Before cancer, I prided myself on having a high tolerance for pain. I recovered from a broken back in my early twenties which resulted in chronic back pain that I have always managed well. I bore two children naturally, for heaven's sake. So it came as quite a surprise to me that chemo could reduce me to such a sniveling, pathetic hot mess.
Pain can make me kind of snarky, too. Yesterday I told my husband I had made plans for us today which involved a picnic on the Shore in my hometown, and of course the first thing that came to his mind was our last attempt at picnicking there years ago.
"Oh, you just want me to get stung by hornets again," he groused.
"We can only hope," I said.

Did I mention I am glad Thursday is over? I was dreading it all week. After a long 10 hours at work fit-testing my colleagues for respirator masks, I had to rush over to the school and set up a booth for open house. After carting all my boxes of shit in, I realized I had forgotten the one thing I usually always have on my person - tape. The nice young man setting up a Boy Scouts table next to mine offered me his.
"Thank you," I said. "By the way, how old do you have to be to join Boy Scouts?"
"First grade," he replied.

"Really? What about two-year-olds?"

He laughed, a little nervously.

"No seriously. Can't you make an exception?"

Well it's finally over (I know I said that already) and, it wasn't really that bad, looking back. If you don't count the brutal back-to-back ambulance transfers I almost fell asleep at the wheel on and the two mini-breakdowns midweek. Or the emotional conversation with my plastic surgeon. But that's another story.
Honestly? It *was* that bad. Until my sister called. Somehow, after an hour and a half sitting in the late afternoon sun while bawling my eyes out over the phone, I am better. Now I can calmly take next week.
I love you, sis.