Attack of the 50-Foot Woman

It’s a little premature to panic over my test results.  I can pick out the dire-sounding numbers from  all the Greek and picture me riddled with cancer, but I’ll wait on my doctor to interpret the scan and give me the news, bad or good.

For now, I’m preoccupied with more immediate symptoms.  It’s an unusual Shabbat when I’m not at Avdi’s baking, cooking, and cleaning.  I know he desperately needs help, which makes me feel worse, but I’m sure I’ll be back.  What he really needs is beyond my capacity, unless I could become a village.  Or the 50-foot woman, from all the radioactivity!  Right now I just feel like the crawling fried egg (a.k.a.”The Crawling Eye”).

I’m not sure if I’ll go peacefully or fight–I guess bottom line is whether I can afford all the treatments, and if it’s worth all the side effects.  I hear they’ve come a long way with rad/chemo.  But again, too soon to tell.  One thing I resolve to do, is not become one of those pathetic whiners.  If anything, I’ll become more thankful for every minute, and hopefully improve my sense of humor.

 

 

 

 

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