Some days you get the bear
And some days, the bear gets you.
Greg had a good treatment day Friday–floated all the way home, after a side trip to pick Mom up from cousin Sue, whom Greg regaled with all kinds of slurred stories. Later, that same day, he talked on the phone to his sister and then our Brit friend, Ian, and he sounded like he was on a toot. Poor Ian. Greg went through the entire plot of “The Italian Job” and then told him the L-O-N-G story of winning a clean car award with our Ford Pinto station wagon–In 1973.
Yesterday and today, not so peppy. He took a long nap today, and is now running the vacuum! Some habits just won’t surrender to chemo.
I am doing less than nothing when it comes to painting, all the negative vibes of life as I know it at the moment. My brain is compressed. Scream therapy would have been beneficial on Saturday, but I rooted around until I found the kind of pill movie stars kill themselves with. It worked a treat. Only drawback: after working a hectic 
3 hour shift at our church coffee shop yesterday, I had trouble staying awake for the sermon. Hi ho.