Sunday, June 6, 2010

Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever

Ok so the good news, no side effects today. None. Nada. Well, except for the ones from the cold I caught from Robin. Oh man. Are you kidding me? But this is my good week. Wah. Wah. My last good week after first chemo I was on the period from Van Helsing. Remember? Now I get a damn miserable cold during my good week after Chemo 2 The Sequel? Well at least I felt like a normal person today, just suffering from that achy stuffy sneezy feeling and nothing else. Nothing else.

Look at me. Nothing else.

Oh I love Trader Joe's, I really do, but do not buy their little generic box of tissues. I am all for green and recycled and all, and no chlorine bleach, but I want my tissues soft. Soft. Not like blowing and wiping with fine grade sand paper. But do try their veggie potstickers, they are really good. I like to bake them in the oven so they are crispy.

Feed a cold.

Starve a fever.

I am flashing all over the place. Feels like a fever. Feels like somebody turned the thermostat up to 82. You take your temp. "98.6"

How do you starve this fever? The nonexistent one.

I'm sorry some of these posts just aren't as sexy as the others. Get over it.

Hello Duncle Dody. Thanks for the voicemail. I love you too. I get in these moods where I just have to be quiet. Yes, email me. I will call soon. Have fun at the doggie rodeo.

I had the house to myself today. No boys. I was snug in my bed. Thought I heard a prowler or something in the middle of the day. It was the doggie girls. We have a makeshift barrier at the bottom of the stairs to keep little Miss Muffet, grandma's hand-me-down, downstairs. Sometimes my girls, Hallie Berry and Cassie Boo Boo, just break down the barrier. They know they have full run of the house and the barrier is not meant for them. So not long after the boys left, I hear the commotion, and soon I have company. Two large dogs flanking my bed. One little fluffy puffy on top of me. That's how they roll.

It was like a girl slumber party without the curlers and nail polish.

How important do you think conversation is in any relationship?

I think it's way way up there. When everything else loses its sparkle and allure, you have to have somebody you like talking to. and somebody who can make you laugh. I think people miss out on some really great choices for themselves because they are searching for some "type." Looks. Money. Status.

All you really need is someone you like talking to and listening to and someone who can make you laugh.

Is texting the new letter writing? Maybe I don't know. There is a lot you can learn about a person texting. Things are to the point. In a normal conversation, there can be an excess of words, a meandering down a path and you might not ever get to the destination. Texting is like a great manuscript edited down to within an inch of itself. As a writer, I think there are merits to the communication that happens during texting. There is no pork fat. It's lean and yet can be rich.

Like blue fin belly.

That was one smart thing I learned in raising a teenager. Learn to text. Your teenager will tolerate all kinds of affection coming his way in a text message that he never would if you were standing there saying it to him. Sometimes, often, you get some back.

love u 2 mom.

That's my favorite.

Don't get me wrong, conversation over a drink or a cup of coffee or a pot of tea or on a Sunday morning in bed is good, but do not underestimate the power of a text message.

There is power in scarcity.

Speaking of scarcity, how do you starve a fever that does not exist? Anybody know?

What else you want to talk about tonight? Anything?

You won't believe how long my fingernails are right now. I never realized how much hair production sucked out of nail production. I don't know if this is the case, but I'm going with it.

Hey, I'm half way through my first chemo regimen, the AC part of it. Two more sessions every other week. I will finish this heavy duty kick your ass make you beg part of my chemo on June 25. Then I start the 12 weeks of weekly.

So would this be considered hump day or something? Happy Hump Day to me, Happy Hump Day to me, Happy Hump Day, Happy Hump Day, Happy Hump Day to me.

Make a wish.

She closes her eyes. Blows a whistle without the sound.

You know I can't tell u or it won't come true.

Damn these Trader Joe tissues.

Don't forget what I told you about those and the importance of conversation and giving good text.

These are the little pearls of wisdom from the writergirldreams chicken soup for the cancerous soul.

Otherwise known as The Sacred Ordinary.

Night John Boy.

2 comments:

ann said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Kim said...

Tonight, Monday, I'm going to read your entry "Don't Cry..." at my American Cancer Society Relay For Life meeting. I'm also going to give them your website. I love your writing and think others will too. I read a poem the other day and thought of you. It's kind of long, but I might try to post it for you. I will post again after my meeting and let you know what everyone thought. Luv to you and yours.

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