The Ex's scan results: Hurry Up and Mooz!

Some days zoom by. Some don't.

Family reunions, travel days, shopping and fishing? Zoom.

Root canals, dancing recitals, jobs you hate, and scan results? Mooz. The exact opposite of zoom.

Hello, God? It's me again...

Thank you for red skies at night, and for helping us do what's right. Thank you for the rain that makes the trees and flowers grow. Thank you for sunshine that refreshes our souls and makes us whole. Thank you for family, loved ones, and friends. Thank you for making things new again.

Thank you, God, for being there. Thank you, God, for being EVERYWHERE, and THANK YOU

The Post-Cruise (post-corpse, post-Canada, post-chemo, post-company) Blues

For the past few days, it's been easy for me to put my dark thoughts into a tiny far-away spot, out of constant view of my consciousness. The thoughts are still there, but not like they were -- cussed little cartoon cancer mind monsters that wouldn't leave me alone!

All dark, and thorny, and red, and blistery, and loud -- the imaginary cancer critters were firmly planted in my mind's full view, with triumphant cancer hands on small cell hips, standing defiantly

The Ex's cruise ends in death, but not The Ex's

Well, for the most part, in the immortal words of Jimmy Buffett, it was a perfectly lovely cruise. First to Freeport, Bahamas, then to Nassau, then back to Port Canaveral, FL on Thursday, May 7.

My son reports that The Ex was his usual miserly self, until he loosened up about the 2nd day

Stage Four, Schmage Four!

Like the Energizer Bunny, my terminally ill Extensive Stage Four SCLC patient continues to amaze me and most of the modern medical world with his drive to work, to live, and to go on as he always has.

He's got cancer consuming most of his left lung, his L1 vertibra, his left acetabulum (hip joint),