It’s treatment week, that means that I’m attached to the magic juice box again. It pumps three flavors of non carbonated cancer killer into my body for twenty three hours and ten minutes a day ( it takes about ten minutes to get a refill).
We saw on a statement yesterday that just one of my drugs costs $19,000! I think I would rather have a 99 cent fountain drink from QT!
My face is super flushed from the steroids that I’m taking. My round bald face looks like a shiny red Christmas ornament. The last time I blushed like this was the first time I cussed in front of my Mama. (That might be a decent title for a country song!)
When I was in grade school, my Grandpa would draw a horse’s backside around my belly button making my navel the “poop chute”.
Grandpa clearly had a twisted sense of humor. But, I’m tempted to recreate the belly button stallion on
myself in an effort to entertain the unfortunate captive audience who run the risk of being flashed by me in the infusion room.
During infusion week, there is only one chair in our living room that really accommodates me and the juice box.
ALSO, during infusion week, I usually have to get up and go to the bathroom about every thirteen minutes.
Every time I get up our beagle Maggie Moo jumps up and grabs my chair.
Yup, sometimes our dog can be a jerk.
She won’t get out of the chair until she gets a treat.
I’ve heard that some dogs can be very compassionate. They act kind of like furry Florence Nightingales. Not our beagle! She is a scrappy little street dog and she has us trained!
carbonated joy 