So, Mom received her next-to-last chemo treatment today and guess what? She couldn't take the Plavex, or Plavtex or whatever the drug's called that hurts your bones. She whined about her pain. Gosh, Mom. You've gone all this time without hardly a whimper and now you're telling us you can't take it? Just because your legs are going numb in the shower and your fingers are tingling? What's with that? With as strong as you've been all along, I'd have to suspect you've been at the bottle again. Either that or you aren't Superwoman as I had been suspecting all along.
If you've been following Mom's journey, you realize how totally awesome she is. I sure hope I have her genes. Oh, that's right, I do! I have her genetics for wrinkles, large you-know-what's, long legs, tiny ears, small bones, propensity to gain weight around the middle, and high intelligence--stop laughing LeeAnn.
I only hope all we girls inherited her strength. This test has been formidable and she has been astonishing. Her attitude is better than when she was raising five teenagers at once. Hmmm ... what does that say about her children if she's happier fighting cancer than she was raising us? I'll choose to ignore that last thought.
Mom said her hair is growing back. We'll see if it stays through these last two rounds of chemo. Now's your last chance to see her bald if you want to. I want to because I want to draw those cartoons on her head and haven't gotten to. No one has. What's with that people? Get out those markers. Let's give her some last hurrahs as she finishes fighting this demon! (I am speaking of cancer as the demon, not those of us who would choose to decorate her head with lovely graffiti.)
Until next week, keep your panties out of a bind!
I am crushed, simply crushed to the core that you would think I would laugh at your intellectual prowess.
ReplyDeleteOkay maybe I have laughed at times;-)
I knew you would!
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