|I'm too old for this shit!|
I ask you; do I look like a sick person to you? Or that I was this close to cardiac arrest? No, and I am not wearing makeup, smarties.
With the redneck hordes still snuggled in their vans and campers, I took off early to run errands and do a little shopping. When I returned they were all gone, vanished - praise be - and all was quiet again.
One of the errands was to pick up the dry cleaning - and the kilts - which turns out to be a story for another post. I'm still sorting out the whole scene. And it was a scene. So, stand by.
Just received a text from Linda (the wee Irish Lass and the GM at Dos Locos) informing me that a Happy Hour party (like we had for my birthday) will occur this friday afternoon. She’ll pick me up at 4:30. No particular reason this time, just a get together with the usual suspects and blow off some late season stress.
Of course I replied, “I’ll be waiting!” because I’m ready to blow off a different kind of stress. Should be fun.
The Oncologist’s office called and set up an extended appointment for next Tuesday. I can only guess it has something to do with a possible trial or study opportunity. We’ll see.
I suppose the new blood and platelets are having a positive impact on my body and mind. Still a little shaky, but I feel stronger and a healthy kind of tired this afternoon. And though I’ve no appetite, feel like I’ll get a real rest tonight.
I just read this and, in my experience, it's true. I don’t know who wrote it, but that doesn’t matter.
“I don’t care about whose DNA is recombined with whose. When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching, they are your family.”
And I’ll drink to that on Friday afternoon at Happy Hour.
Life goes on, grudgingly at times, but it goes on.
And so it goes.