Crap month

Been a long time. When I started this blog, my intention was to write as honestly as I could, every day or two, about my experience with cancer, writing, mothering, wife-ing, etc. I especially thought that writing about cancer would help... someone... maybe me, maybe someone else. I was inspired by that friend of Ted Koppel's whose name I cannot recall*, who was sick and blogged and then died, just a day or two before I started this journal. Anyway, I figured if he could write something every day up until the end, maybe I could, too. 

Obviously, I can't. Things got so dicey this month that I went head-down. At one point, when I asked Dr. J if we could get more aggressive in treatment, he asked, "What do you want me to do?" To which I responded, in my head, "I want you to save my fucking life again, idiot."

I had my first treatment in a month yesterday. For various, hideous reasons, we had to postpone, and postpone. Today I feel better than I have in a good while, surely because I've psyched myself into thinking that the medicine will be a blockade if not a backhoe. 

Curiously, I got a lot of work done on the novel. And I got a lit paper written and turned in.

My friend Bloglily inspired the next post. Thanks, BL.

*Leroy Sievers is his name. Blogged on NPR.org.