Calling All Gay Pirates!
Greg’s chemo reaction (treatment Thursday) was tougher than the first two, so we had a slow snore of a weekend. Zach joined us for dinner last night, and as they had dessert in front of the television, I noticed that Greg had pulled the folded afghan from the back of his chair so that it rested on his bald head. We did have a cold front move in last night.
SO–always the problem solver, I grabbed a fetching navy striped cotton scarf from my scarf drawer that I never open these days (who wears scarves with pajamas, or studio painting clothes?) and tied it ala Jack Sparrow around Greg’s head. I thought he was going along with it for the laughs, but this morning I got up to freshly brewed coffee and my own Jack. Now, if I can just get him to use eyeliner . . .
Progress with Mom: last week’s doc appointment yielded a new prescription for an antidepressant which was not to help for at least three weeks. I beg to differ. She’s been much sharper, and has even cracked a couple of jokes. And the broad range between our individual Scrabble scores is lessening. What? You think I should GIVE her the game? You don’t know me as well as you thought.