I know I’ve been remiss but sometimes a girl has to retreat into a solitary hole and lick her wounds. No, not literally; actually I have this machine to do that for me now. What I’ve really been doing is locking myself in my office playing Angry Birds. Now that I’ve completed all levels and the footless, wingless birds have infiltrated my dreams, I am crawling out of my hole and attempting re-entry.
The answer to some of your questions: 1.) No, I haven’t yet started chemo. I was supposed to start the first week of February but it’s been postponed until my wounds close up. Hence, the wound vac, to which I am attached 24 hours a day. 2.) Other than that and the root canal, and the blood clot that I got in my gum from the Novocaine injection, and a little stomach bug that makes one do numerous times a day what one should do once a day at most, if not every other day, I feel just fine. 3.) Nobody asked me this but I’ll tell you anyway: I tried on wigs yesterday,
Historically, I’ve scorned wigs for their unattractive, who-do-you-think-you’re-fooling appearance. But every once in a while, I like to revisit my strongly-held beliefs to see if they still apply. After all, people change; wigs may change. But no. I look magnificently awful in a wig. Besides, they’ve pushed my chemo so far ahead that it will last through the whole summer. So it’s looking like I’ll be applying for a little medical marijuana and wearing this nice light cotton rasta cap with fake dreads.