I’ve noticed with increasing fatigue that my tolerance for mess at home is decreasing at the same time my ability to flit about and clean is.  Why we chose this time to start renovations on a bathroom is beyond me but at the same time, I’m so happy we are continuing with the project.  We usually negotiate with our contractor, doing some of the work ourselves.  I had the job of priming and painting the ceiling and the walls, and it was time for this to be done. 

To get to the point, the original color chosen but not purchased required gray primer.  The ultimate color purchased was not dark.  Covering the gray primer required more hutspa than the brighter color had.  Layer after layer went up as the weekend wore on.  I don’t love to paint, but I love it when a new color is added to a room.  I never have had problems painting.  I have not even minded cutting in.  But as each layer was put down, a need for another rose up.  I could not get myself out of the way to see that everything would be ok whether the painting was done or not.  I was once again up in the bathroom, the last of the gallon in the tray, putting another coat on.  I was spitting and sputtering about who knows what, definitely feeling sorry for myself.  (This is fatigue in action here.)  B came up, brave soul that he is, and I just kept ranting on.  An hour later I went up and it didn’t look too bad.  He stood in the middle of the room and said something smug like “you just have to trust the paint”.

Friends and I were  spontaneously combusting into a gathering the following weekend and I emailed them all saying that I just had to put on the last coat of paint before I could release myself into their delightful presence.  I left off the “t” in paint, and hence, the title of this entry.  A friend picked up on it immediately, and I just had to laugh.  The final coat of paint was less painful than the previous one was, I’m happy to say.

Doing projects like this is so rewarding when it is all said and done.  Ripping out the previous bathroom had catharctic potential for  both B and I.  Seeing the new makes me very happy and the kids finally have a bathroom that they enjoy.  Lest I not forget to mention the other outcome of getting teenagers OUT of our bathroom…

I am so grateful for B.  When I’m not firing on all 8, he usually gives a wide berth.   I may not always get what I THINK I need from him, but his timing can be so right on.  I’m rationing my time between work, resting, putting up molding or vacuuming the living room.  I call Mom or take a walk with D’s pups while she is away.  I remember to stretch my body, put ointment on my radiation affected skin.  I was the first to take a shower in the new bathroom.  I snuggle up with the katz.  I enjoy time with A while E is away on a week long trip. 

I am working my way out of this particular trail.  12 days of radiation left.  Not too much emotional pain, some annoying but not too intense physical pain.  The bathroom and the still in process renovations to the bedroom are symbolic to me.  You know, finishing stuff, attending to things I have some control over, letting go of the other stuff.  I’m looking at the end of the really invasive and aggressive treatments.  I’d like to think of it as the last coat of pain.