feeling normal

I suppose there’s a lot of ambiguity when we tell others how we are.  What I deem as the line between ‘good’ and ‘not so good’ might very well be considered well below someone else’s ‘shitty.’   My first thought is that I ought to not associate with those people. I want to surround myself with fighters and survivors.  But a bit more thought makes me realize that it doesn’t really matter how our adjectives compare.  All that matters to my dearest friends when they ask ‘how are you’ is that I can be honest with them and that I can let them help me feel better if they choose.   And that is part of why they are my dearest friends.

So to Cathy, thank you for checking in on me today.  Modus, thanks for the love and for the Agnes picture.  Her belief in unicorns is like an eternal hope for magic and beauty.

Physically, I feel like I did yesterday.  Had I not been aware of being given drugs today, I’d have no physical indicator aside from the small hole in my vein.  I didn’t take steroids before the treatment, so don’t expect a big change like I used to get after I stopped them.  One nurse doesn’t even consider my new ‘godzilla’ drug a chemo drug.  It’s a treatment like Herceptin ( a drug I took for 6 months after my surgery last year, doesn’t attack all fast growing cells, just attacks cancer cells and tries -(failed, dammit)- to prevent a recurrence, no ‘chemo’ side effects at all).  In fact it IS Herceptin, just laced with chemo.  So the idea is that it attacks only the cancer cells, but does so with the vigor of an actual chemo drug.

Mentally, emotionally, I’m fine.  Morgan and I are both trying (and succeeding) and spending a little more time together, stressing less about small things, and enjoying each other just a bit more than before.  I’m excited to go back to school, I’m excited to be making progress fixing up the house, and I’m loving the weather

Speaking of which… it’s almost sunset time, gotta go!