You Just Gotta Laugh

I have fewer "good days" on this drug, and they hit this weekend. Granted, my good days now feel a lot like days when I had the flu, pre-cancer, but I can function.  I got tickled about something on Saturday night and laughed so hard that the girls thought I was crying.

Sunday morning, it happened again. Both girls and I laughed so hard that I nearly hurt myself. I realized, after all had calmed down, that I hadn't laughed that hard in over a month.  Later yesterday, Kevin and the girls were gone, so I went to see Mom and Dad.  As is typical for visiting them, there were quite a few laughs.

The past few days have made me realize that uninhibited, hard, tear-inducing laughter is something that cancer/chemo has stolen from me, and I think I miss it more than I miss my hair. I have two more days before my next round of chemo, and I plan to laugh every chance I get.

Having only four good days out of 14 will wake a person up to what is lacking.  Laughter has been seriously lacking around here.  I'll have to see what I can do about that.  This goof ball usually helps in that department, even when demanding my attention that is being directed at blogging.

My First Day "Alone"

Kevin's off to work and the girls are off to school.  I'm sure I'm fine, as I spent most of the weekend doing as much as possible without help, so I'd know what to try and what to NOT try.  I have my nest set up here in the recliner with my coffee, pitcher of water, remote controls, medication, eye drops, computer and other electronics, and mints.  If my bladder had on "off" switch, I wouldn't need to move all day.  That probably wouldn't be the best for my recuperation, though.  I should probably move around a bit, huh?

Anyway, I was nervous about being here alone all day, until I realized that I wasn't home alone after all.  Every time I look down, I see my caretakers:

They are worried about me and won't get more than a couple of feet from me at any one time.  Thanks, Boys.

My Best Friend

The 30 Day Photo Challenge wants my best friend.  Umm, OK.  This poses 2 possible answers.

This apparent lush (she's not, but I made sure that she looked like one) is my BFF.  It is one of those things where I feel like I've known her from childhood.  Separated at birth.  We laugh non-stop the entire time we're together.  Chica gets me.  We only get to see her a few times a year, and I cherish those times.  It hurts me when our visit is over.

This dude is my other best friend.  He puts up with me like nobody else on earth could ever do.  He knows my oddities and loves me anyway.  He was even kind as we drove away from my other BFF after last year's gathering in Texas, and I was bawling like a baby.  Radar was crying about being separated from his mother for the first time in his 4-months on earth, and I was crying about being separated from Brooke, and Kevin just drove.  He let us have our tears.

He drove our sorry asses all the way back to Missouri, and kept all of his man-thoughts ("What the hell is WRONG with them?") to himself.  I love ya, man.

Animals

The 30 Day Photo Challenge today is all about animals.  Since today is Radar's birthday, I thought I'd choose him.  First, here he is as a pup (yes, my friend Brooke wrote my name on him so I'd know which one was mine.)

And now, he looks more like his mama, and tends to pass out pretty hard in the evening.