These Days

It's not that I don't have time to write. I do.

I just haven't been sure what I should be writing about these days.

I have been visiting with friends, napping more than usual, and reading a ridiculous amount of People Magazine. (I know now a lot about both the Tiger/Elin Woods and Kate/John Gosselin -- it's like crack.)

Monday through Friday my days are structured around getting to my afternoon infusions. Mornings are slow, and sometimes it is about all I can manage to wake up at 9:30, eat breakfast, shower (with the cow glove), pack up my stuff and get into the car by 12:15. This schedule is dictated by the fact that I AM MOVING SLOWLY . Nothing like a heavy course of chemotherapy drugs to age you 15-30 years.

Once we arrive at Bellin, we check in at the front desk and wait a few minutes. Shortly, a nurse comes and takes me back to the infusion room -- a large, airy, social space run by a troop of smart and speedy oncology nurses. There is a lot of good nature and laughter in that room, and they always ask me, with eye contact and a substantive pause, "how're you doing today, Amy?"

And the answer to that question has been "nauseous." I have had a low level of nausea for the past two weeks, and it has been kicking my butt. They doctors and nurses tried all kinds of combinations, but we finally landed on the winner this Thursday: Zofram +Lorazepam = NO MORE NAUSEA! For the past three days I have been happily (if suspiciously) free of nausea and I am a little unsure of what to do with myself.

This weekend we planted our peas, seeded the tomatoes, and cooked brunch with friends. Tomorrow I begin the last week of this that has become my routine.