1. I think I have the mid January blahs.
2. My parents seem to have misplaced one of their cats. They’re not sure how long she’s been gone as she spent most of her time beneath a cupboard. Part of me is distressed about the cat and part of me thinks, o.k. one less cat to worry about when my parents go wherever they’re going to go…..
3. It turns out my father was trying to move the trash cans the entire time he was gone the other day. I think I need to add putting their trash out to my Sunday list.
4. I’m going to make an appointment for a home health care person to come out.
5. Leo wants me to get him a Cub Scout shirt and sew his badge on it. It will be worth it just to see him wearing it.
6. I think I’m really incredibly terribly horribly anxious about Ernie’s appointment with his oncologist on Friday. It will be the first psa test since the effects of the hormones have totally worn off. Ernie is completely confident. I’m a nervous wreck. A. Nervous. Wreck. And that makes me rather dull and incapable of writing well.
Waiting for those check-ups and the calls that come after is terrible. I’m thinking of you and sending good thoughts your way that your husband is well.
I’m sending good thoughts and burning some sage, and blowing it down your way, which I’m confident will stay potent all the down I-57.
He’ll be fine. But if I were in your shoes I’d still be a wreck. I understand all about worrying about “worse case scenario” even though WCS rarely, if ever, kicks in.