This isn't the sort of thing I'd usually mention on my houseblog, but considering that in the near future I might be posting even less often than I have been lately, I suppose I should say something about it.
"It" has to do with some physical symptoms I took to my doctor this past week. Had an imaging test yesterday, the doctor took a look at the results, and unless some strange and extraordinary and happy anomaly is taking place, I have cancer.
And not a particularly curable cancer, either.
Driving home, I got to thinking about the house and the state it's in. I'd really, really like to get it done, at least the wood trim and wallpaper projects I've had going the past, oh, seven years . . .
Weird, huh? A person's facing major surgery and chemotherapy, which maybe it won't be any use in the end, and she's worrying about the renovations to her house???
Well, yeah. Though I suppose I don't have to explain the impulse to any diehard houseblogger.
Why do I care? For any number of reasons, in no particular order all jumbled in together.
Because if I do peg out in the foreseeable future I'd like to think I'd left something finished and beautiful behind. Because if I recover, I'd like an orderly environment to recuperate in. Because until I pay off my mortgage, I'm only the steward of this house, and it would be irresponsible to leave it torn limb from limb. Because working on the house will keep me from moping about my prognosis.
Yeah, I know there's no way I can get the trim refinished and back up before my surgery. At least, I hope there wouldn't be time for that. This isn't Canada or Great Britain-- yet. I want this damn growth out-- ASAP. But I do want to stop wasting time and get done what I can before I go in.
Of course, there's a lot of stoopy pleh business things I'll have to take care of when I would rather be shellacking trim or whatever. So I think I'll try to come up with the funds to have the plasterer do the repairs in my Study ceiling. I really wanted to do it myself. This past week I found a local store that can sell me all the plastering supplies I need, and I had it on my calendar to go buy them today. But no. As much as I'd like to point to that ceiling repair and say, "Look at that! I plastered that! It's real keen!" that's not where my energies should go. White-painted plaster is white-painted plaster. Anybody (well, any plasterer) can do that. But I doubt I can get anyone to shellack my trim the way I want it done.
And God willing, I'll be spared to do that.
5 comments:
You are in my prayers. And you're right, you don't have to explain thinking about the state of your house when you've just gotten this scary news--we housebloggers understand. Hire a plasterer. Shellack your trim. And do take care of yourself.
Dominus tecum.
Praying up a storm for you.
Add another name to the list of people praying for you.
Thank you all. If I may use language right out of Jane Austen, I am sensible of your prayers and thoughts and concerns. I can tell I'm receiving intercessions from all over, since otherwise I'd be basket of nerves.
Funny how something like this focusses your mind on what's important . . . and oddly enough, for me that includes continuing to work on the house. After all, let's hope I'll have many years to enjoy it . . . and if not, I want to do what I can to leave it in decent condition.
That, and I really wouldn't mind people saying how beautimous the place looks-- preferably to my face!
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