aren't the best. How are you doing?

How you doing?

I always want to get new everything when I move.

- multiple countries, multiple states - yeah, lots of crap.

I am well on the way to ridding myself of a lot of it though. Sold off some items already. Parting with a 115 years old hand-crafted drop leaf soon. Keeping the 1860 rough made butcher table though. It's beautiful. Just a little beeswax every so often and everything in the house pales in comparison. Heavy, though.

Sending you hugs!

Last edited Sat Apr 30, 2016, 12:07 PM - Edit history (1)

My cast iron skillets are my babies.

My Jade trees are getting so big it takes two to carry them.

It was nice sleeping in.

Now the slow return to normal. I won't know the definition of normal until I reach it.

I did enjoy having nowhere to go.

Normal is overrated.

I can't wait for the nausea to fade away. It only happens every few days, but it is a bother. I can feel the ball in my tummy, but it isn't bad enough to trot to the porcelain. It finally comes, it passes, and I feel so much better. I am still able to get down 4 cans of 2Cal, otherwise I am able to take the prescribed 5 cans

and I'm glad you got to skip a chemo, and are OK with that. I read something yesterday in a little booklet of different bits of life advice, some of them I tried and each of them worked (such as yesterday I soaked all rusty garden tools in apple cider vinegar, in a plastic sack, and it dissolved the rust) and then here is one for you:

Clothespin trick to calm you down:

If you're feeling anxious and need to relax get 5 clothespins, the kind that pinch really tight, and clip one to the tip of each finger of your left hand. right at the start of the fingernails. Keep them there for seven minutes. Then put them on the fingers of your right hand for another seven minutes. Pressure exerted to these nerve endings is know to relax the entire nervous system.
Do this first thing in the morning if possible, or before or right after any particularly nerve racking situation.

You know me well enough to not roll your eyes. You know I'm thinking of you and have no help to offer other than caring, a lot!
Hugs!

They were right that the week after the last treatment is the worst. To me that means the radiation is still doing its job.

Thanks for checking in. By this time next week I should be in a better state.

that is exactly what it is, and it may actually in a strange way help a little. Thinking of you every day and attempting to send healing light.

The pain from the clothes pins probably stimulates the endorphins.