The Patience of a Squirrel

I like to think I’m a fairly patient person… right up until I’m not. Basically, I have the patience of a squirrel. Have you ever seen a squirrel just sit calmly, waiting for something? No. They’re always darting around, jittery, and convinced that every acorn in a mile radius belongs to them personally. And if they dare hesitate, they’re flattened by a passing car.

That’s me waiting for, well, pretty much anything—whether it’s the microwave to ding, someone to text me back, or the doctors to give me an update. And if there’s anything this whole experience has taught me, it’s that cancer loves to test squirrelly patience.

But here’s the upside to being a little squirrelly: you keep things interesting. I can’t help but imagine all the people in the waiting room silently watching me twitch, fidget and pace, probably wondering what on earth is wrong with me; (spoiler: nothing, it’s all natural!).

So today I’m headed back to Cleveland for some highly anticipated pathology results, and let’s just say, the squirrel vibes are in full swing. I feel like I’m about to find the world’s biggest acorn, a half-eaten, rotten one or the radials of a Ford.

So, here’s to being a little squirrelly, a little impatient, and oddly entertained while we wait!