Pre-Baby Bladder Sleep and Other Miracles
🌼 Date: Monday, January 05, 2026
⚡ Energy: Cautiously optimistic (with good sleep swagger)
❤️🩹 Status: Rested, stitched, still healing
😴 Outlook: One miracle at a time — todays was sleep
I woke up at 1:15 a.m. to pee.
Which, historically, is how my body likes to trick me into thinking the day has officially begun.
My brain immediately jumped into “since you’re already up…” mode:
Unload the dishwasher.
Start another load of laundry.
Scroll the internet into oblivion.
Solve world problems.
Hard pass.
This time, I refused to settle for four crappy hours of sleep, so I tried one of the new meds my oncologist gave me — Trazodone, which she specifically told me to save until after round two of chemo.
Friends…
✨ EIGHT. GLORIOUS. UNINTERRUPTED. HOURS. ✨
I slept until 9:30 a.m.
No bathroom trips.
No tossing.
No turning.
No existential dread.
I haven’t slept like that since before kids — and my oldest is 33. That was pre-baby bladder, pre-mom brain, pre-everything. A full-blown medical miracle. And no, before you ask, I did not wet the bed. 😉
Later in the day, I had my plastics appointment — a wound check for the hole and its newest supporting cast of stitches. As expected, no fill (I wasn’t even hoping for one), but we did switch up the dressing.
We’re officially retiring the silver-soaked foam pad and moving to a non-stick gauze pad with Polysporin, changed daily. (And by “I,” I mean Casey, because that’s the division of labor in this house.)
The hope is that this new setup won’t rip off the fragile new skin that’s been forming every 24 hours — which looks like pus to me but apparently is actually healing tissue. Medical science is wild.
Today was also a reminder that cancer doesn’t just live in your body.
It lives in paperwork, phone calls, systems, and logistics that don’t slow down just because you’re sick. I’m painfully aware that I am not doing this alone — I have Casey, I have support, I have people who can step in when I don’t have the strength to fight another fight.
And I think often about the people who don’t have that — and how impossibly heavy this journey must feel without someone in your corner.
Today wasn’t flashy, but it was restorative. Sleep helped. Stitches held. Support showed up. And for now, that’s more than enough.
💗 Tina –
One Badass Day at a Time
Leave a comment