No More Multitasking.

My brain deserves a break.

My grandmother’s old chair got a facelift.

Writing has become a chore I’m not enjoying right now. Whenever I think of not wanting to do it, I feel guilty.

When I was in the hospital having the stem cell transplant, I could barely think. But each day, I forced myself to write in my journal. Sometimes, I could only get a few words down before exhaustion and confusion overwhelmed me. Yet I’m glad I did it. Now, I look back and see how far I’ve come.

After being released from the hospital, I didn’t feel like doing anything. But my mother had died, and my sister needed help settling the estate. We had two houses to clean out, one in Richmond and the other at the river.

Fortunately, I was on a high dose of prednisone (80 mg. per day), so I had lots of energy. When I wasn’t at the clinic getting infusions or treatments, I’d meet my sister and two of my brothers at our parents’ house to go through things. There was so much. It was overwhelming. My mother was a hoarder of beautiful things and rarely threw out even a scrap of paper.

After being released from the hospital, I needed to stay within 30 minutes of the hospital for the first three months, so we rented a house. Each evening, when my husband and I returned to our temporary home, I was exhausted and often in pain. At one point, I had to wear a boot because I’d developed stress fractures in my foot.

But the job needed to be done. The estate's finances were quite fragile, so the house had to be sold as soon as possible.

During this time I also spent many hours working on my novel. I’d started it a few years before but didn’t work on it regularly until I got sick. Except for about six weeks when my chemo brain kept me from being able to form a cohesive sentence, I wrote practically every day. It became my escape as I fleshed out the characters and developed the story. It felt so good to have a purpose every day.

I finished my novel in early January of 2023 and turned it over to an editor to help me with grammatical errors. After she returned it to me, I went back into rewriting to solve the problems she’d addressed. Then, I started sharing it with beta readers to get feedback on how it flowed and if the characters were believable. Everyone seemed to like it, but several commented that it read like a memoir.

So now I’m back to rewriting the novel, this time in the third person. The first fifty pages were easy, and I finished them months ago. The remaining three hundred pages sit untouched in a file. I can’t seem to get myself back in the groove.

A couple of weeks ago, while I was walking my dog, I had my Air Pods in listening to a book on Audible. But I was constantly rewinding the story because I was distracted by the world around me. My quiet neighborhood isn’t exciting, but I kept noticing things like new flowers in a person’s yard or a pretty wreath on a door. Or how the cool breeze felt when I walked along the river’s edge. I couldn’t seem to focus on what I was listening to for more than a few minutes.

Then it dawned on me. Maybe I’m no longer a person who can multitask.

During my next walk, I left my phone and Air Pods at home. This time, I only paid attention to things that came into my view. I also allowed my dog more opportunities to stop and sniff. When I returned home, I was relaxed, and my head felt clear.

I sat down to write an essay but had no ideas. Of course, I could write about my feelings concerning the upcoming election, except those thoughts made me feel queasy. Plus, everyone was writing about that subject. I could write more about my experience recovering from the stem cell transplant, except I’m bored with the topic.

Then, I thought about working on the rewrite of my novel. But I wouldn’t let myself go there because I hadn’t written the weekly essay I’d promised myself I’d do.

Argh – stuck again.

So I went out to my garage. We’re remodeling our house, and I’m refinishing furniture to go into the new space. The hours flew by, and I noticed I hadn’t listened to music while working. Instead, I focused on one thing and enjoyed every minute. I love working on stuff like this. There’s a simple beginning and end. It’s satisfying to step back and see what a coat of paint and a new seat cushion can do for an old chair.

I guess this is another one of those changes I’ve experienced since my cancer diagnosis and treatment. Not only have I become more introverted, but I can no longer multitask.

All this is to say that I will take a break from publishing essays for now unless some crazy inspiration hits. Instead, I’ll invest all of my writing time in editing my novel and get back to figuring out how to publish it.

I’ll also permit myself to take as much time as I need to complete the projects for my remodeled house. It excites me to think about how I’ll organize this new space and let go of things that no longer serve me.

Plus I’ve got five little grandsons who need me to build with Legos, play endless games of Uno, or snuggle in the rocking chair.

There’s so much logic in singular focus. I feel great relief as I plan to tackle only one thing at a time. My brain deserves a break.

I’ve just never permitted myself to do so.

I can hang with them for hours and be delightfully entertained.