Here we are, Day 6 of the Ultimate Chemo Challenge. Doing pretty good so far. Still haven’t spent any time with my head in the pot. Does that mean I’m winning?
Friday, my friend Jodi came and took me out yard saling. Bless her soul, I know I had the personality of a turnip. Chalk it up to not thinking real…..fast, I guess. I haven’t been feeling quite like myself the last couple of days, as evidenced by the fact that I didn’t even BUY anything while yard saling! Good grief—who is this person?
Saturday was our traditional Mother’s Day Herb Faire/plant shopping day. Unfortunately, Mini Me has come down with a fever, and since the next few days are when my immune system is at its weeniest, I had to ship her off to Peg’s house for the day, then to my mom’s house for the night. Gee, I bet I’ll win Mother of the Year THIS year. Mother’s Day for our family is historically bad, however, and at least I can be thankful that Mini Me didn’t drop 10 sheets of drywall on her knee and end up in the hospital, or fall out of a second story window.
Normally I buy, in addition to herbs, my weight in bedding plants. This year I’m not so ambitious. Who AM I? Sheesh! Adding to my distress over not being myself is the fact that I can’t taste things very well. I’m really starting to feel old. Here I am, taking medication to counteract the side-effects of the medication I took to counteract the side effects of the chemo, bones aching, hair getting ready to fall out, not much sense of taste, and ready to go to bed at 7:00 most days. It’s like The Ghost of Future Illness has spirited me away to see what life will be like for me one of these years if I don’t straighten up—or even if I do.
Okay, so back to yesterday’s excursion. In case you all didn’t know, I’m madly in love with my hubby. Even more so since he’s been jumping through all sorts of hoops to try to make me feel normal and perk me up. If I can’t eat, he doesn’t eat (or at least not in front of me), if when I finally decide I want to eat and the only thing that sounds good is pizza, then to Pizza Hut we go. Because he knows I like to yard sale, we stopped at every yard sale in Terre Haute yesterday. He’s given me many massages for my poor achin’ bones, and he tells me I’m beautiful, although I tease him about whether or not he’ll still think so in another week when I’m bald. Best of all, he still says I’m his best friend even when I have the personality of a turnip. Yeah, all of that happened yesterday. And we also got some plants.
In The Pink 