We have finally gotten the word to people that a person saying no to a potential partner means no whether one person would like it to mean something else or not. So why is the same not true for cancer patients?
For some damn reason people don’t seem to understand that if I say no thank you I mean "no thank you" which usually means let me do it myself. Actually, as I discovered last week when I was ganged up on by people offering me the same thing at the same time, it means no f**king way. Ah, frustrations.
The Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival is a complicated time for me emotionally. Much like a helicopter mom I'm convinced everything that can go wrong will go wrong at one time or another. I've gotten better about trusting that trips that head out will return. It's also tied closely to my cancer. I got my diagnosis of cancer (but not the type) while at the RGVBF. Talk about a gut punch. It seems like I relive it every festival. And before I told others much about my diagnosis and issues, I had to tell my coleads on the post trip about why I was unable to walk far or fast. What a change in perspective now, walking is even shorter distances now.
Well I lived through another fest though I was an emotional wreck by the end of it. I made sure to spend time in the vaccinated "guide bubble" if you will, spending time chatting with people in the lunch room. I was uncomfortable with mixing with the unmasked and unknown vaccination status multitudes, so I never made it to the vendor area this year. And though the office on the north side of the building was assigned to me I couldn't get there, it was just too far to walk.
That said, I walked farther than normal at the fest and I can feel it even now. I chased the Social Flycatcher (formerly Anti-social Flycatcher) yesterday and was amazed I was able to get to the bird with only one stop for a rest. The cooler temps help and so does an ABA bird at the end of the walk! I was beat when it was time to head home, many thanks to my friend Justin for picking me up and taking me the short distance back to my car. I can still feel it in my legs today. But I saw the bird! It took a village, I'm lucky to have so many friends (even when I'm cranky).
