All this news today about Garrison Keillor stopped my searching for an episode of Prairie Home Companion that I’ve been searching for all week. It was about the midwest floods and I heard it every time they did a retrospective look back at the funniest episodes ever. As the flood waters rose, a woman kept being asked how it was going, and kept answering something like “it’s not so bad”. What are you eating? Silage. It’s not so bad.
When people ask me how I’m doing, I do that. How do you feel? Oh, six weeks of the flu. Constant headache, sick to my stomach, runs all night, no appetite. But no tumor! It’s not so bad.
At least I can walk around while having the infusion, right? I still can’t do much else. No lifting. No playing in the dirt. I can’t really go anywhere, because I have the infusion every day. I have a hole in my head. Blah blah blah. My whining and pity party gets on my own nerves, but at least it’s only in my head.
I think the girls are settling in nicely. They are still the quietest Icies ever, only barely barking as it’s almost time to go somewhere. They go everywhere with me, and are starting to understand all our different places. I get lots of exercise with them every day, making sure to walk the perimeters of where I want them to drive out the mongoose.
I need to figure out how to get myself a vehicle. I sometimes feel like I’m revisiting my teen years, depending on others for where I live and how I get around. I’ll get there, but it’s tiring all by itself, since I’m still so limited in what I can actually do.
I head to Oahu on Friday to see Shinha and Glazier. I hope to get an understanding of how much longer I need to stay on the vancomycin, and when the next surgery will be to replace the missing bit of my skull.
No word yet on when Disa flies. Soon, I hope. I miss her so much.