The Audacity of Insomniatic Hope

So the prednisone-induced insomnia continues, as you can see from these 4am posts. My doctor dropped my dose from 60mg to 40mg a day last week, and so far "things" have gone smoothly. Or, rather, heartily and normally. ;) But the difference between 60 and 40 is huge. At 60mg I was up all night and feeling no pain. Cleaning out cabinets, developing budgets, writing Bambina's Lifebook, channeling my inner Martha Stewart. At 40mg, I'm still not sleeping great (although I'm now able to fall asleep by midnight, I'm just up at 4am for the day), but the consequence-free environment has sadly ended. I'm officially tired. But, hey, a somewhat-functioning brain is a small price to pay for a perfectly-functioning colon, right?!

I have my Dana Farber appointment today wherein I hope to find out (if there is an answer) what my near future looks like in terms of attempting to re-enter society. I know that it will be slow, small and methodical but at this point I'm holding out hope for the ability to even be allowed to answer my front door to the Fed Ex or pizza guy. But what I definitely hope to get is some sense of when I can finally take Bambina to school. I have been so lucky to be able to be home with her this year, but there is no question that I have missed out on her life in a pretty big way. I don't know any of her friends, her friends' parents, her teachers, her classes. I haven't grocery shopped with her since she was two. I have never taken her to a museum during a time when she was old enough to remember it. I have not taken her to a library that she can recall. I have not eaten in a restaurant with her since she was in a high chair. I have not taken her on a playdate, I have not seen her first ballet class, her gymnastics class, I will miss her first soccer "class" this week. In short, I know my daughter as a person but not as a person in the world. If you were to ask me whether she is shy around strangers, whether she is a leader or follower around other kids, what she is like at pick up and dropoff times, I would have to either say "I don't know" or tell you what someone else has told me second-hand. There is a whole section of my child's life that I have not been a part of, and more than I want to eat in a restaurant, more than I want to see my friends or attend weddings or visit other people's homes, I really really really just want to walk my kid into school, put her stuff in her cubby, and tell her I'll see her in a few hours when I come to pick her up. It's really the only thing I want.

She wants to know when I'm going to be "a normal mommy" again, and boy, I do too. So maybe today I'll find out. Maybe I won't.

But I'm hoping I will.