Here’s what I did today instead of my 30minute exercise tape:
Yes, there are worse things than baldness!
p.s. Can you match the tresses to the actresses I stole them from?
Within fifteen minutes, Phaedra had peed full force at my trying-to-get-back-to-sleep feet.
A brief but loud battle for clean beds ensued. Phaedra went to her crate, Bayla and I to Lucy’s bed and Lucy in to sleep with Mark.
Mark was up for the rest of the night.
It’s so nice that life is getting back to normal.
Thanks to chemo, I now have the skin of a 105 year old.
If you happen across a skinless 105 year old, please tell her where she can find me.
I’d like to give it back.
Mark’s parents paid me a lovely lunchtime visit last week. In honour of the occasion, I had changed out of my everyday recovery-wear into my Company’s Coming recovery-wear.
At the end of the visit, Mark’s mom motioned to my T-shirt and asked “Who went to Nepal?” and I responded, “My friend Bill. Twenty-some years ago.”
I realized afterward that not only do I recall the source and story (however banal) behind each item in my recovery wardrobe but the memories flit through my mind each and every time I put the clothes on. Which, for one outfit or the other, is at some point of every single day.
So, for the record and without the full details which flit at lightning speed through my mind each time, here they are.
And my daily hat choice is a selection from the stash provided by my generous and talented friends Whitney, Katherine and Debbie.
And guess what, all those good clothing vibes seem to be working.