Thursday, July 28, 2016

P is an opera singer. 

And if he hasn't been singing, there's something really wrong-life~wise. That HALT thing. Too hungry, too tired, too much doing of the laundry, too angry at the Cubs. Something like that. 

The other morning, I was slow in getting out of bed and yacking about something or other, and the opera singer appeared. He puts one hand near his throat so he can gesture with the other hand like Pavarotti. 

Oh yes. He does. 

"If there could only be a day-ay-ay-ay-ayyyyyyyyyy, that I did not have to hear about your bow-w-w-w-w-w-wels."

I was dying laughing on the bed. Not literally, of course. Gawd fahbid.

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It was lunchtime at Jury Duty and I watched everyone else drink things. 

Like all different things. Lots o' pop. Big bottles. Coffee. Iced Green Tea with pictures of lemon and limes on the label. It's good to get out and watch what people are doing even if, you fear liquids with drawings of citrus fruits on the labels. (And cheeseburgers fresh from the grille.) 

I cannot chance it. Not far away from home. My intestines are still really wacky. 

Beverage envy. 

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You asked me if I was happy about the CEA results. I'm kinda not allowing for happiness exactly. This cancer business was too way-outta-nowhere to be able to kinda clap at what you hope is the end. Also there are so many other people having a worse time than me. 




When I saw this chart of my CEA blood test results
(Carcinoembryonic Antigen), I did have a moment of Jubilee Showcase cuz THAT'S the way I roll. 
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I got a box in the mail. This was hand colored on the side. 

Curious, right? 

What was in the box made me want to jump off a bridge. Somebody(and I know you meant well) put me on a sort of a religious prayer box 'o'cancer accoutrements list. 

Huh. 

What was in it, you ask? Oh a bible and a handcrafted "blanket" which was actually two pieces of fleece tied together (one is zebra striped. Yipes.) and a plastic water bottle and some dollar store chapstick and a Large Type Wordfind book and all this other plastic stuff I spend hours trying to remove from my universe but the worst...(and I really know you meant well) was a chemo cap. 

How bad would it be for you, if I told you I would not wear that thing(if I did have chemo and tomorrow is my mammogram so never say never) for all the plastic water bottles manufactured in China. 

Ya know, chemo isn't a style lobotomy. We gotta work on this people. 


I promise to find it a better home. Perhaps on a farm. 

You see me in a cap like this? Alert the authorities. 

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The gym is going well. I talked to the trainer and maybe by next week? 

Zumba. 

Woo. 
----
Somebody brought in an old copy of Random Acts of Kindness from 1993. A few of us are participating in G.I.S.H.W.E.S. starting Saturday so I thought I'd read this for homework. 
This one sounded very familiar-kinda sorta. And this is how I like my Jesus delivered. In action. 

Not in a box. 




But I know you meant well. 




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