Wednesday, September 25, 2013

High Time I Said Something

August 27 was my last blog post?


It's the familiar cycle - I don't blog the bad stuff, much, and when I'm having trouble keeping my head above water, I don't say a lot.  For someone who talks as much as I do, it's mindboggling to think that there are things I don't talk about, really.  (However, there might be a difference between what  I will say out loud and what I will nail up here on the Internet for ever and ever.)

Also I have a few part-time jobs (post office - yay!  I love it there. LOVE IT. And teaching poetry, which my pyschologist* calls "a marvelous short cut home" for me.  So I love that too.  Hi Person in My Class who reads (possibly present tense - I don't know) my blog!  How am I doing?**)

*I am not fond of the phrase "my psychologist".  I do not own the woman.  However "the psychologist I am seeing" is a bit wordy.

** I am doing fine.  I am good at teaching poetry.

So the cancer thing.  It's not horrible, so far.  Brad (or The Husband Formerly Known As Techno(noun or adjective du jour) is able to work - not 40 hours a week, but at least half the time and maybe even more than that.  Chemo week he's very tired.  Last Chemo Week we messed up his anti-nausea drugs, which is not an approach I recommend.  This CW we did not mess up his anti-nausea drugs, and he is hiccuping wearily away in his home office, working.  (The hiccups have gone from "debilitating" to "tiresome", now that we have tweaked the anti-nausea drugs the way they were meant to be tweaked.)

We still get many varied opinions, often from the same people on different days, as to what his prognosis is, so I personally am going to worry about his prognosis when it feels like I need to.  Brad can blog about his own reactions if he likes.  (not that he needs my opinion)

So that's the Christmas letter version of a blog post.  Wait I have not mentionned the children.  A can hardly be referred to as a child, what with her 18th birthday looming on the horizon.  She's awesome.  Thinking about what she wants to do with the rest of her life, because as comfy as her room in the basement is, she doesn't want to live there forever.  B made the AAA hockey team this year, which is time-consuming and challenging and energizing and I am so delighted he has this opportunity to play the game, and love it.

Oh yes and the dog.  Is nuts.  The last time she got her hair cut, they removed some of the "must be well behaved" portion of her personality and she is having lots of quality Crate Time these days, in which she is meant to be thinking about what she did, but I suspect she is in there thinking about what else she can eat, as soon as I forgive her and let her out.

Right, that's the Christmas letter version NOW.  Come back tomorrow for a post entitled "Here's Heparin In Your Eye!"

Also if there are typos - sorry, no time to proofread.  I have to be at work in Not Very Long and no-one is knocking on the door offering to iron my work shirt for me.

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