One year ago

One year ago, Lee and I arrived in London, staying literally steps away from Freemason's Hall. Lee wanted to see that so badly that I'd resolved to take him on the trip even if I had to bring him home in a baggie. I was the caretaker. Cancer was nowhere near my radar screen--at least not my mental radar screen. It was probably already growing in my body. My concern that trip was seeing to it that Lee had a good time. I knew that even if the worst happened, we would be taken care of. That is one of the real joys of the Masonic Family. And we did have a good time. There was a great deal Lee couldn't do, but also a great deal he could do. We had a grand time.

So much has happened since then. So--what have I been doing lately. I've been getting better. The orcs in my body seem to be retreating. I know they are just gathering strength for the next assault, but right now, the orc drums are just a murmur. Do not for a minute think that the world stops for cancer. Tuesday, Glenn and I were getting ready for an outing--don't get too excited, it was only to the market--when he discovered a flood in the basement. Plans were put on hold while he swabbed the deck and put in a call to our favorite Handyman. The upshot was a backed up sewer, courtesy of tree roots. All is now fine and flowing, but Glenn put in several hours as a plumber's assistant and decided that plumbing would not be his chosen career.
I made Glenn get up early (for him--he works swing shift four nights out of seven), to take me into the City for a follow-up with my surgeon. He made the wound a little bigger to keep it open to heal from the inside out. He wants my plastic surgeon to dig around and find the offending stitch sooner rather than later, since it is still draining. The plastic surgeon wants to wait till I'm done with chemo. I personally would like it all done yesterday. I have a huge box of wound dressing supplies, I suppose it would be a waste not to use them all up.
So, there we are for now. I'm feeling better, about half way through the first cycle. Guess it is time to tackle the mounds of junk--or knit my way through pounds of yarn. Maybe I'll knit.