Oh my God.
An argument about chocolate?
This is seriously the best.

Lindt or Godiva?

Thanks for weired stuff. For misspelled stuff. For stuff I don't even like.

For unprocessed, well-cooked food and raw milk.
Olives, boyscouts and Ninjas.
Magaritas. Martinis. Mimosas. Daquaries.
Stem cells, modeling jobs and paintbrushes.
For perennials, British Hip-Hop, and Home Brew.
Cloudy, stay-at-home days, for oxygen, for shark oils.
For turkey bacon and scrambled eggs.
Below-freezing days when the thermometer reads 42.
Good movies, good actors, good dogs. Good presidents (we haven't had many of those lately) and good phone service.
Music, good and otherwise.
Pencils, and for newspapers, and for chocolate and Duct Tape.
Camping trips.
My guys. My dads. Acting. Marylin Monroe. Hot Cider. Trees. French toast.
For fires and for guitars and campfire songs. Supplements and iTunes and Paris.
Oranges, rum, The Beatles, the 20's, and the Ocean.
Eagle Scout license plates, headphones, four distinct seasons, distractions.
My parents, who like my music, even when they don't understand it. And hey, be fair, who understands Portugeese?
The Theater People, the sweetest visionaries out of Happy Vally Nut House.
For bing undersood, for being accepted, for Edgar Allen Poe.
For Ali.
Balsamic vinnegar, pumpkins and for water. Ice. Shovels. Red wool. Harmonicas. People who play drums really well. Bamboo swords.
For things that make less and less sense the more you read/listen/hear/write/see/taste/smell them.

This is the best Thanksgiving so far. My brothers are headed to Kinston with my grandmother (who is getting lost a bit, and asking my brother, the boy who got lost on the way to his orenteering class, for directions), my dad is asking me to google How to Cook a Turkey (My favorite was "How to Safely Cook a Turkey Without Swearing the Whole Time or Getting Unreasonably Intoxicated". He wasn't amused.), my mum is reading the newspaper, I'm DJing with the help of a icemaker full of champagne and Luna, the Cat Who Likes Rock, World, and Jazz.

Have a good time guys.

I am ONE CHEMO ROUND away from finishing! La lalalalala, lalala tra lalalaaaaaaaaaa! And now, a delightful aria for you...
Maybe not.
But Hey! Guess what? It's raining! It's cold! My dad is getting a new truck! I! Am! Happy!

You know what else? It's almost Thanksgiving. Time to see all your crazy relatives, all the nutcases out of the family woodwork, and for God's sake, don't talk about the big white elephant in the living room.
What really drives me nuts is all my Southern reliatives. Babtist tea-totalers. I don't have anything concrete against Babtist tea-totalers exactly, but when thyr're related and you shove 'em all together...Oh, God, you'd be amazed how bad you need a shot of something strong.
Or better yet, a mini bar.

Of course, I won't be anywhere near Kinston this year. I shall be staying home and depriving everyone of my glorious company because I will be Neutropenic. Ha.
Certian people aren't too darn happy about this, but another year and I'll be back on the rounds. Be happy for me! Do not be bitter! Patience is a virtue, dern it!

Now, don't laugh, but I am not used to a dead bird for Thanksgiving. Pig, sweet potateoes loaded with marshmallows, and Cole Slaw are the norm, with a side of hush puppies and some Sweet Tay. We don't do sweet tea.

I'm going back to Duke tomorrow for some lovely blood, platelets and benadryl, and then I shall be home for the holidays.

Ask for me during normal work hours.

I really do have an excellent reason for not posting in a while. Just wait, you're going to love this:

Tuesday, 12:30 PM: Run to Duke with mum, because I had a temperature that was all over the place and on the high end of the 100's. When I'm neutropenic, this is a Bad Thing, so in I troup.
Got blood drawn, found I needed platelets, no problem, there ALL BLASTED DAY getting antibiotics anyway, go home.

10:00 PM: Nice little surprise--fever again!

10:20-11:00 PM: At Wakemed getting MORE antibiotics. (Note: This was supposed to be faster than driving for an hour to get to Duke, but it took them an hour to get the antibiotics IN THE ROOM, and when they did, they barely knew what a Ferises Catheter was. I'm pretty sure you should know more than your patient, even if it is the ER, no offense, Dr. Citron.)

12:00 PM: Finally at Duke. In a Taj Mahal of a room. I'm serious. This is one of three big rooms in this ward, and it is ENORMOUS.

Wednesday: Nothing more exciting than MORE ANTIBIOTICS happened until around 10:00 PM, when I became seriously engaged with a prolific nosebleed, a bag of platelets, and muchos benadryl. I proceeded to sleep through the platelets and half the subsequent red blood until 4:00 AM or so, when I awoke, and the floodgates opened forth again (...Okay, so maybe it wasn't quite floodgates, but you get it, right?).
So I get more Blood'n'Benadryl, happiness overtakes me, and the blood is outa there before you know it.

Thursday: I am completely, totally (very much reversibly, however) unattached fom my constant companion, The Pole for most of the day, so my mum and I take a walk over to Duke Gardens a little after lunch. We find an nice sunny hill and lay there for a while just looking at the ducks and the pond and the blue heron and the trees and the sky and...Almost falling asleep too, but I won't mention that.
Gorgeous day. Whole year should be like that day. Could deal with it being about 7 degrees warmer, but apart from that, it was perfect. And Duke Gardens is a really nice place to spend a perfect day, too. I mean, at the risk of repeating my self waaaay to often...It's perfect.

Today: No fever in over 48 hours. No bleeding in over 24. Blood counts are trending upwards. Chance of getting the heck out of there by two: 100%, babe. If it wasn't, I would require a thorzine drip and several rolls of Duct Tape.

Ugh. Fever is NOT HAPPENING AGAIN, do you HEAR me??? Not. No. Never. I don't care if I get a closet for my next Chemo. NO. MORE. FEVERS.

So did you love that or what?