Not a good sign

Counting down--only two more to go. My beloved Giants whooped the Dodgers tonight, 7 to nothing. They were doing so well so early on, that I got out the Dirt Devil, plugged it in, and vacuumed the landing and the upper stairs. Now there are only four, but if I have the energy to vacuum, something is seriously wrong. I've been making small inroads in the bedroom, too. I must have too much time on my hands or I'm feeling too good. Actually, the radiation is starting to catch up with me, only instead of getting tired at the end of the day, that's when I get my first wind. I feel pretty wretched in the morning, but it gets better as the day goes on. I have some minor skin irritations, but no big deal.
Today was Charlie's last day at radiation. I will miss him and his wife, Bonnie. Evan still has a ways to go, so I'll get to see him, his wife, and their baby who will be one in 10 days--probably not Monday, because I have blood work before radiation and it seems to take them forever--but if I leave early enough on Tuesday I'll see them for a good luck hug. Charlie is in a wheelchair--don't know why, maybe polio because he wears braces. He didn't get a good luck hug--I pulled his baseball cap off and planted a kiss on his head. I have trouble passing up heads. Although, just for the record, Charlie has more hair than I do.
My hair is growing. My eyebrows are coming in enough that I no longer need eyebrow pencil. I can use it if I want to, but I don't look like an alien without it. Eyelashes are coming back, too.
Wednesday, on the way into radiation, they were playing Eine Kleine Nachtmusik on Mozart in the morning. That was Lee's favorite piece, no foolin'. I wept quietly all the way to San Mateo--and felt like an idiot for doing it. I lied on Tuesday's post--I did have something to do in the evening, but it was knitting circle, and that is a pleasure. Last night I went to an Eastern Star meeting--haven't been to that chapter since before the infection--seems like and awfully long time ago.
Besides light vacuuming, I practiced a little tonight--real violin, not fiddle. I ordered some new music several weeks ago. It came this week, so I had to try it out. I'm a little rusty. The new A string that I put on at the Gulch still isn't too excited about staying in tune, so I had to keep stopping and tightening it. I remember my last violin teacher, that I studied with for 22 years, saying that she had a student whose family took his violin back to the store because it kept going out of tune. Little violinist joke there. But then, my late friend, Glenn (as opposed to my son, Glenn) worked with someone who wanted to learn the viola, so he bought one and paid someone to tune it. I sure wish I had THAT gig.
Time to wind down and try to get to sleep. Don't have a clue what I'll do tomorrow--maybe clear out more floor space in my room. Now there's a scary thought.
xxooxx