Yesterday, was Monday, and normally would have been a chemo Monday; but on my new and improved chemo cocktail schedule, not only do I now have three weeks in between treatments, which meant it wasn't a chemo Monday, but it was my first time to get that longed-for third week since I began downing these cocktails on September 29th. It feels like an early Christmas present, or that I'm not only on Christmas break, from homeschool and co-op, but also chemo break. I was singing TGINACW all day long. And, I have to admit that I did get into the holiday spirit a little and remix-it-up with various holiday tunes, like The 12 Days of Christmas where every day my true love gives me an anything but chemo cocktail for Christmas; or I'm Gettin' Nuttin' For Christmas, where nuttin' ain't bad cuz it means no chemo; or Jingle Bells, Chemo Smells.
Anyway, so instead of slamming down a chemo cocktail, and getting slammed by said chemo cocktail, as per my usual, I went and had a massage (my body was not expecting that! Pleasure and not poison? whose body is this, anyway? what alternatvie universe have I happily found myself in? it seemed to keep wondering) from a therapeutic masseuse my breast surgeon hooked me up with. She is a breast cancer survivor, further on down the road from me, whose experience and compassion were as therapeutic to me as her skill. I don't think I had realized that I probably haven't relaxed a single muscle nor have taken a deep breathe since August 12th when I found the damn spots, until she told me I was in guard mode, and kept reminding me to breathe. Honestly, I was holding my breath to keep my eyes from leaking. It wasn't exactly crying, like in the movie At First Sight (not that there's anything wrong with crying) and I don't even really know what it was, except my eyes kept leaking everytime she told me to breathe. Today I am wound back up, because my sister is on her way here and I can't wait to see her, not to mention, she comes with my nephew Brody, who hasn't seen me bald yet, which makes me a bit nervous because I hope he won't be afraid of me. I totally chased my cup of coffee this morning with a chill pill that I am waiting to take effect.
In other medical news, Dave just had another sonogram today, and the gall stone(s?) is/are still there and still blocking the tube, with no way of escape, except extraction. The gall bladder has collapsed and is also packing up its belongings to hit the road, Jack, and sort of be a groupie to said non-rolling stones. The surgery is scheduled for January 28th, but we are trying to move it up in between my chemo treatments and not at the end of the tunnel of Taxol, so we can party, and not prep for more surgery/stress/recovery. And then move on, both of us, God willing, to rebuild our health and fitness. And maybe even playing a little tennis, dare I say?
In the health and beauty section, Amanda finishes up her last day of beauty school today, and therefore is no beauty school dropout like Rizzo, but a bonafide graduate, only lacking her state boards licensure. Way to go, dahling! Mum is way proud, not to mention, impressed. Now, I hope you will have time to practice on your dear ol' mum.
Speaking of licenses...police scanners all across Ohio are getting the dreaded news that Amanda is now officially back on the road without restrictions. Other than the normal STAY WITHIN THE SPEED LIMIT, SILLY GIRL ones.
Lastly, from the mail bag, The Dave and Julie Letter is in the mail. Some of you have probably already received them, and I hope you understand that they intentionally came cardless out of respect for my bald head. I thought it was a touching gesture. If you didn't get one, we blame it on the chemo, so just send us your address and we will remedy the silly oops.
I think that's a wrap, and now I must wrap up, because my sister is in my driveway, and I must wrap up my little Brody in my arms!