All You Need is Love

Oh my. One has friends and good friends and decades-old, finish-each-others-sentences, can-you-believe-we-did-that-when-we-were-17 friends. And now when I need it the most, it seems that every last one one them is there for me. The outpouring of love and concern and aloha is far beyond anything I could have imagined. I know it's "just" words, but those words bring tears to my eyes. Thank you.

Modesty? Forget That

Yesterday morning I spent 15 minutes lying on my belly with my trousers down as radiation planning was under way. I have my first tattoos—woo hoo! But don't get too excited. They are tiny, freckle-sized things that I gather will serve as guides when I have radiation.

I have commented more than once that I'd much prefer cancer of the elbow. (My apologies to anyone who has had cancer of the elbow and knows far better than I how difficult it is.) I at least wouldn't have to expose my plump, cellulite-y nether regions to the universe for radiation. I know, I know. I am immensely grateful for the wonders of radiation therapy but geez Louise.

Plus I wouldn't be sitting on a tumor the size of a walnut. I remember years ago when I was a mere child of 25 reading Garrison Keillor's Lake Wobegon Days and thinking it was so funny when Lars Larsson or Sven Svensson or another of Keillor's wonderful characters was on a fishing trip with buddies while sitting on a hemorrhoid the size of a Concord grape. He suffered silently while I chuckled. There's a lesson here, friends. Never laugh at anyone, even a fictional character. It may come back to haunt you.

And it's a wrap for today's musings. I will spend the rest of the day in the yard, reading on my side, and otherwise avoiding sitting on my walnut-sized tumor. Cheers!