Carrie is worried about me, so I better drop a note. I have been sleeping or working every minute for the last two weeks. I am very tired. I only have FIVE treatments left. Can you believe it? I wonder what to do with this blog after that? When am I officially through this? Do I make it into my family blog then? Do I print it out and bury it in a weird ceremony with incense and voodoo dolls? I am unsure.
It seems I don't have so much to say these days. I wake up, go to radiation, come home, work, sleep. My Aunt Nancy made good on her offer and has been out here helping since last wednesday. I like her very much. She is wise and fun. She made me orange rolls out of clementines. Mmmmm. My kids love her, too. Mason started out calling her "that friend", then "crocker" (unsure about that) and now Nancy. Preslie can even say "Nancy". (She calls me "Daddy". Mystery.)
I am growing real hair. Dark and soft. It's strange. Usually when someone shaves his or her head and it starts growing back it's all stubbly and spiky. Not mine. Soft, soft. Touching my head feels like petting a rat. Maybe I'll get brave and take a picture. Probably not. I'm getting my dark eyelashes back and they are soft and curly. I liked my old ones better.
My chest hurts. I can feel it now (and taste it!) when they radiate me. I'm glad it's almost over. I can't work out anymore and I'm so very tired. Are you getting tired of me saying that I am tired? It makes me tired.
That's it for now. I'm sorry I don't have more to say. Hopefully when I get this catalog done we can laugh and play more.