When difficulties are overcome, they become blessings.
From "I'd Rather Do Chemo than Clean Out the Garage" by Fran Di Giacomo:
Then there's all the stuff you don't have to do that you never wanted to do in the first place. How about your spouse's office parties? (You'd rather stay home and clean out the attic.) Or how about dinner with the boss and that dreadful bore he calls a wife? You put on your friendliest face and do your best to follow her insipid conversation, but instead you find yourself calculating the square root of the chair legs in the restaurant. You're not concerned she'll read this book, however. She hasn't read anything in years.
Guess what? For this and all other events to be avoided, you now have The Great Chemo Excuse!
Chemo Clubbers, you never ever again have to do anything you don't want to do, and you will be met only with understanding and sympathy. What happens when you must cancel out on a social engagement at the last minute? Fourteen boxes of chocolate and six florist deliveries show up at your door the next day. This chemo thing is really working, you think smugly.
My blessed, educated, and cultured husband absolutely loves the opera. While I respect and admire the opera, they still don't have recliners in second row balcony. I'd rather stay home and clean the oven. So guess who never goes to the opera anymore? "Oh, I'd love to," I murmur sincerely, fluttering my eyes for just the right effect. (Don't forget to drop the voice here to a near death rattle, and let the words trail off a little.) "No, honey," he says, lovingly tucking me into bed. "You'd better stay home and rest. I'll go by myself this time." Wicked beast that I am, I sneak off to my art studio as soon as his exhaust fumes have cleared the driveway. I'll be back in bed before he returns with a delicious dinner he picked up on the way. Home. In spite of it all, I think he still loves me.