My Third Full Time Job

Another throwback…

“My third full time job”

My first job is being a mom. Best job in the world.

My second job is being a teacher. Used to be best job in the world, until politicians got their hands on it. Now it’s a stressful job, but I close my door and dance.

My third job? My new one I don’t remember filling out an application for?

Saving my ass.

I’m going to be honest. It’s exhausting.

Here is my day.

Wake up and journal on FB.

Dry brush to get the lymphatic system going.

Scrape my tongue and oil pull with coconut oil to detox my mouth.

Shower and use chemical free soap, shampoo and conditioner. Try not to cry when more hair comes out in the brush.

Dry hair and research while gently drying as to not lose more hair.

Sort out pills for the morning while warming up magic potion. Then gag it down. Rub Frankincense on my breast.

Mix four tbsp cottage cheese to two tbsp flax oil… wait five minutes… use hand blender until creamy. Add Manuka honey, organic cinnamon, organic berries. Put one piece Ezekiel grain toast and organic peanut butter on plate. Pour half glass of organic juice, and one cup black coffee. Eat in ten minutes while reminding kids to get ready. Pack lunch.

Then I go to work and teach 26 five year olds. I answer parent letters and emails, phone calls, photocopy, make lesson plans, teach, track behaviors, assess kids individually while making sure the other 25 are still learning independently, care for sick kids while praying I don’t get sick, and dance.

I come home and depending on the day, I go to reflexology, bloodwork, doctor appointment. I research, respond to requests from friends who need help, gag down more potion and pills. Some days I dry brush again, then take a detox bath. I try and bounce on my rebounder. I figure out which day I can go grocery shopping during the weekend and try to get laundry done or clean up sink. (Gotta be honest, my house looks like someone was recently diagnosed with stage four cancer three months ago.)

I tuck all three in bed at 8:30. Yup. Even Maddie. Teens need sleep.

I remind myself to find time to meditate, practice reiki.

I scour over stage four pages and see what else I can do to cure myself. I look at clinics in Germany, Mexico, Australia.

Then I go to bed at 9:00 or so and try to calm my mind and not go to the dark place.

I sleep, then find myself up at 4:00 am.

I miss my old me.

I miss when my kids didn’t worry about mom and cancer.

Maddie worries about the technical stuff.

Morgan cuddles me more and sees the kindest social worker ever.

Quinn told his class that his dad has cancer not but a kind in his throat, and mom does too, but she has the bad kind… but she will be ok. He also told his teacher about Whole Foods. (My kids have great teachers helping them through this.)

I miss when I didn’t feel on fire and researched, then feel cold. I’m miss when I never thought about cancer and how to save my ass.

I know, I know.

You’re all like…”But Keri did so great yesterday! She didn’t cry at Stonybrook! The needlephobe did it! She needs more cowbell!”

I do.

I need more cowbell.

But I also need to hear my tumors are shrinking, my bloodwork is great,

I’m NED, there is a cure for cancer.

I need to hear a little girl or boy look at me and say,

“Hi nanny. I love you. Tell me again when you beat cancer in three months all those years ago.”

I need a lot.

It’s a roller coaster. Ups and downs. You never know when it’s going to drop.

So today, I’m just going to dance extra, read more funny books, try to look up vegan recipes so on the super bowl I don’t miss too much my old smorgasbord of cancer feeding food, continue to accept and try to love the new me…. and repeat my mantra more.

I am cured.

(I need more cowbell.❤️)

I’ve included what suggestions stage four groups give. I need another full time job to do it all…

Go ahead and look.

(Present day Keri, here… I’ll tell my grandkids I did it in five months.)

In Jesus’s name, amen.



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