Sitting in the cancer ward while Calene gets a PET scan. Not a bad place to write, all things considered — plush chairs, quiet, so-so WiFi. So far this morning I've checked and rechecked stats from Friday's cross country meet, cancelled a trip to London, read the LA Times, and checked my American Express balance. I didn't sleep well last night, doing the 3 am wake-up and not falling back to sleep. Sometimes when this happens and I struggle to find a comfortable sleeping position I remind myself that this is where "toss and turn" comes from.
I have no idea why I'm anxious.
There are four weeks left in cross country season. We've been training five months and the teams look good. Very good, actually. Time to stop looking at rankings and remind the kids that the process is the most important thing right now. November is when I have to remind myself to have fun coaching or I will tense up and pass those vibes along to the team. We could win a couple championships next month. Just need to stay healthy and work the process. A lot can go wrong next month but a lot can also go very right.
I find myself getting very angry about the LA Times. I've read it faithfully each morning for as long as I can remember. Same routine each day: Sports, Calendar (Entertainment and Funnies), County, then, after all that and my mind is sharp and processing, the front page. But the Times is now a shadow of itself. The Sports section, like that of the New York Times, is no more. I don't know why I still get the paper delivered every day. I can get all that online. Maybe I just like the routine of pouring a cup of coffee and unfolding a broadsheet to scan column to column. But I sure do miss reading the box scores. It makes me very angry about the Sports.
Apologies for the rant. I have no idea why I'm anxious.
So we get up before dawn for these appointments, gliding up the 5 to get in the parking garage in time for the 7:30 change of shift and sudden abundance of good parking spaces. I carry my laptop and newspaper, while Calene carries a bag with a warm coat and sometimes a blanket. It's all so routine now, this 90-pound backpack we've been wearing so long that we don't notice it anymore. I believe in prayer but sometimes it feels like it’s a wish. PET scans let us know whether things are progressing or regressing. I try to hope we don't get a gut punch when the results come back. Good news is always welcome.
I have no idea why I'm anxious.