I look great in all black

Or so I was told a number of times today when I went to services. I feel like I must sound nuts, going from 'feel like crap' to 'feel great' in a short time and then back again and so on. But for me the good days are really wonderful, and each day that passes, good or bad, puts me one day closer to the end of this bad time.

The only residual side effect of the chemo that I'm experiencing, other than alopecia, is dry mouth and a metallic taste in my mouth. Kinda takes the fun out of food, oh well.

I told Heshy the other day that the hair loss is called alopecia, and when we view it that way as a simply a temporary side effect with a name, and that alopecia happens to other people for other reasons, it's easier to swallow. He liked that idea.

My sister has invited my boys to visit her in the desert for a long weekend next weekend, the beginning of their winter break. We call it 'auntie camp,' and their two aunties always plan lots of fun and lovin' and shopping during camp time. It might make this post-infusion time easier since I won't have to take my sons' sensibilities into account, meals can be when I want them, etc. Plus now I have Ativan which will help me sleep better when I feel rotten.

I have decided to go ahead and get the medical marijuana card so I can purchase items at a dispensary that do not require smoking in order to have the positive effects of the cannibis. It's amazing what's out there to buy - I recently was given a cookie made with canna butter, and not only was it delicious, the appetite-inducing effect lasted hours longer. I hear there's a tincture one can put under the tongue, there are candy bars made with oils laced with cannabis. The smoking part is getting old. This should be very interesting, and I look forward to seeing what's for sale for folks like me.

I plan to go for a gentle walk this evening with Marshall. I need to keep moving my body, and I'm clearly not doing enough.

Tomorrow night I'm taking my 3 guys to see the SFBallet Nutcracker. Years ago, when I was single and wanted to be able to see the ballet without paying for the tickets, I became a volunteer usher with my friend Holly. The deal was that each usher had to commit to a certain miminum number of performances of the Nutcracker in order to be an usher for the regular season. (I hear they've revamped the whole production recently.)

Holly and I would dress up in all black, grab an early dinner, and show up to work. One day we read in the newspaper that the American Ballet Theater performance scheduled for that evening would have a substitute for the male lead in Giselle. Since the regular guy was out, and the understudy was also unavailable, it would be Baryshnikov who would dance the lead. At that time he was already a bit long in the tooth to be dancing that role, but dance it he did. Every usher showed up for work that evening, we were 12 to a door instead of 2. When the house lights dimmed, the orchestra began to play and the curtain was raised I was mesmerized in a way I've never been before or since.

As he took the stage I held my breath, and when he flawlessly performed the leaps which so define this particular role, I could not stop the tears. Even writing about it now gives me goosebumps.

Pray for continued high spirits.