Back home from yet another doctor’s appointment. This time they gave me a transfusion. I had a cigar when I got home.
Hey, here’s a cool book: Chessmen of Mars, by Edgar Rice Burroughs. The protagonist, John Carter’s daughter, Tara of Helium, has a motto that gets her through a host of dangerous and difficult adventures: “I still live.”
Next week it’s time for my colon cancer operation. I think I need that motto.
(Erlene, are you out there? Hi sign to you.)
I think I’m back. They let me out of the hospital today. Six weeks. I am told it takes a while for “chemo-brain” to wear off. Well, it could’ve killed me. It messed up my memory pretty good.
It could’ve killed me, though.
Upon my return home, my first order of business was to fall off the front step. This greatly alarmed my wife. I’m all right, the fall did me no harm.
Hmm… It won’t let me paste an image.
How did my legs get so weak? I am enfeebled! I’m also finding it hard to remember how to do this.
I have greatly missed you all, everybody. I pray I can stay out of the hospital. The instructions for doing so seem (to me) challenging and complicated. Just what I need. Hot dog.
Please bear with me as my patchy memory screws up my blog. Looks like this’ll be harder than I thought.
P.S.: It seems this machine does not want me to post images. *Sigh*
No, I’m not hiding. Can’t melt into the background like a chameleon. (Isn’t he a cute little critter, though?)
And Wednesday we’ll do it again. Or something very like it. Taking pictures inside my guts. Just now, my head is spinning. I wonder if I’m allowed to have a cigar. That would calm me down.
Meanwhile, I haven’t scared up any nooze today, and it’d be folly to try to work on my book when I just can’t concentrate. Every little twinge might mean something. Or not.
I’ll do my best to get back to you by late afternoon.