Guess what? I am very good at, er, hope this is not TMI for the queasy, draining. As from the second surgery.
The nurse, Dr. Zafereo (my surgeon, damn, can that guy wield a knife blade!) and his fellow, Dan Yaniv , appeared surprised at how quickly and well I, er, drained. They each looked at my chart entries and at the, er, draining "bulb,' (they are into flora stuff at MD Anderson) raised their eyebrows and said, "Oh!"
Dr. Zafereo complimented me on the way I healed. I complimented him on the way he and his team cut and sewed. Sometimes it's hard to get things done at MD Anderson because we're all so damn polite here!
So, now I am off for a week whilst the radialogists run their programs (takes three to five days) to determine how to zap me in way that goes after the cancer and less after me. I like that.
Meanwhile, Sarah and her husband have wisely decamped for the week to visit their daughters. With essentially half of my family and one yappy dog moving in and out. They have left their wine cellar, unwisely, unguarded. We frequently set off the house alarm. By accident. HONEST!
And I, at the advice of my team, am have double lunches washed down by malted milks. Chocolate, of course.
My brother John picked one up for me and confided to the woman at the counter, "my sister's doctor told her to gain weight."
The woman looked at him, smiled, and said, "I think you need a little too," and handed him a little cup of overflow. So DEAR!
I am having great walks in the mornings but it is really weird the way Houston does not really have sidewalks. In a certain way, I feel like the Beverly Hillbillies, (some of the houses in this neighborhood kinda feel like the Beverly Hillbillies) but it's really the Houston Hillbillies, via New York and Sparta. I love you all and I wish you were here!