Last week was bad.

Slept badly in spite of not feeling guilty about it.

A whole bunch of side effects, which we believe to be from Avastin. My skin has felt hot all week. No temperature or nausea or or feeling hot or anything that is usually associated with hot skin. Just very hot skin. Janet keeps kissing my forehead. I am on to her. She is not kissing me out of love, just wants to make sure I do not have temperature. Faker. Though I suppose that is a measure of love.

We finally bought the shower head you keep hearing about. Drove out into the hinterland that is the Greater Toronto Area, a store run by Iranians. This is as fun as it gets. The better part is making our way to an Iranian store called Tavazo to buy Iranian nuts and stuff. The best pistachios are the ones from Iran. There is no argument there. NONE! We bought a bunch of those, and mixed nuts which include a generous helping of Iranian raisins, and dried mulberries.

My father used to eat the raisins to thin his blood. I have no idea if it worked or not, or how much of these things you have to consume, but he swore by them. Not an issue for me, his swearing by them, I love those raisins. Love raisins in general, but those are particularly good. We lived in Iran between 1963 and 1965. I remember going to the country where we were offered fresh mulberries. These are nothing like the ones that fall off trees here. First of all, I remember these trees as being huge. Whether that was a reflection of my short height, I am not sure. The workers would place huge white sheets at the foot of the tree. A bunch would then climb into the tree and start shaking it releasing all the mulberries. These are almost white in colour, and very sticky. And delicious. You had to eat them with a spoon. It was love at first taste.

We buy the fruit here in a dry state. Not as delicious, but a wonderful second best. They tend to dry up, which is easily rectified with a slice of apple added to the dried mulberries. Keep the lot in a plastic for a couple of days, and you get wonderful moist mulberries. Unless you are my brother who appears to like them dry. No understanding people.

Back to me, which is what this is all about.

The past week was marred by periods of extreme exhaustion, poor humour, and a general feeling of being fed up with the whole thing. Judy tells me I have to brace myself for about 18 months of this sort of stuff. Counting the months down to month 19. We have just finished month 1. Sigh.

We went for dinner at Judy and Arlin’s house on Saturday night. I sent most of the time lying on the couch, and we were there for only 2 hours. Sunday was like a breath of fresh air. Not sure how this all happens. Dying one night, up and at them the next morning. But there we were taking a drive to the country to see Ann and Frank who fed us a fabulous lunch and apple pie. Ann is an amazing cook and baker. I drove out there, and more importantly, felt up to driving back. The trip takes between 45 minutes and 1 hour. Not too shabby.

I am seeing Dr. Kennedy, my surgeon, this afternoon. I am expecting a clean bill of health, specially after the positiveness of Dr. Hedley. You can read all about the amazing Dr. Hedley here. She better not say anything about my hair. Yes, it is still all there. Though my scalp is sensitive to the touch, and I am shedding some hair, but no clumps coming out yet. I am still thinking of having a party at my hairdresser’s. I should maybe talk to him before sending out any invitations.

I tested a new bag this weekend. I will reserve that for its own post. It deserves it. Strange technology, this bag thing. Harder than it looks at first sight. Or second.

Talked to a lot of people over the past few days, all of whom are reticent to commenting on this blog. Apparently, some current commentators are just to insightful. But that is the whole point of the comments. Some insight, some humour. No observation is too slight.

I am glad I am doing better as we head into chemo week. I was dreading going into it feeling the way I did on Saturday.

Felling strong and mighty.

Hair mostly intact.

Onward and upwards.

3 Responses to “Sunday is Thursday”

  1. It was great to see you yesterday, feeling so, well, normal. Can you stand to hear it one more time? “You look great.” J told me you had a good doctor’s visit today. BTW I think she’s kissing your forehead because she loves you.

  2. You know, I have never had a Mulberry. I know it’s stated in poems and songs. Until now I always thought they were like blueberries.

    And what the heck is quince?

    • Loser!

      Quince looks like an apple, but cannot be eaten raw. It is tart and dry. Makes a great jam, and is used in sauces instead of apples.

      Mulberries come from the mulberry tree, which is as big as an oak tree. Very juicy when fresh. Can only be eaten with a spoon. It is dried and sold in Iranian stores. Delicate and tasty.

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