Yesterday morning Ernie yelled from the other room, "uh, Cynthia, can my chemo make my toenails loose?" A bit of googling assured it that yes indeed, his chemo can make his nails fall off.
Christ on a cracker, he's losing his toenails. For some reason, I found this insulting. One of those add insult to injury kind of things.
Later, Ernie and I ran errands. He mostly stayed in the car, except for popping out to say hi to Farmer Greg and John Pines when we picked up vegetables. I ran into Schnuck's in Urbana by myself to get him some non-alcoholic beer for our virtual happy hour that night (oh, and I got flour!). Got back in the car and zoomed home. We decided to sit out in the front yard as it was so lovely. He got a crossword and I looked for my phone as I'm reading a book on it. I couldn't find it but Ernie's the official finder of the house so I went out to the front yard and sat down. Ernie came out the front door and said he couldn't find it anywhere. All of a sudden I had a sinking feeling as I remembered setting it in the top little ridge of the shopping cart. Oh, God. We jumped in the car and zoomed back to Urbana. A guy was just gathering the carts from the corral. Ernie jumped out and asked him, and he looked down at the first cart and there it was. My phone. God bless Urbana.
Took a couple of years off my life, I tell you.
We tried to relax and headed back home. We turned into the alley and an alarm went off in my head. Something just looked wrong. "Our front door is open," I yelled. The CATS! We mustn't have latched the door correctly when we raced off to rescue my phone, and of course, the boys rarely make it to the first floor. Ernie raced ahead of me and shooed Rascal as he was creeping toward the steps. We went in and of course, Bob was in his regular spot on the heater under the victrola. Hattie was nowhere to be seen, however. I screamed for Owen as he knows where she sometimes goes in the basement. But Ernie ran outside and there was Hattie calmly walking around the front yard, easy as you please. He scooped her up and came inside just as a sleepy Owen was making it downstairs.
Another several years off my life, I tell you.
I must say, though, who among the cats had the balls to calmly waltz out of the house and enjoy herself? My girl. Bob, we don't worry about as much. Remember the time he fell out of a living room window and just stayed there underneath the window until we got home? I'd be terrified if Rascal got out but of course, he adores Owen so much perhaps it would be ok.
I had a glass of wine and tried to let the adrenalin ease out of me.
After a bit, we had a virtual happy hour with some friends and oh it did my heart good to see and hear them all. It's amazing what it does for one's spirits. We tumbled back downstairs and watched Jon Byrd live. He is so glorious.
I'm going to try to focus on the victories of my day: phone, cats, friends and music. I must admit to incredible anxiety and spending far too much time reading the news over and over again. Yesterday before I started losing phones and cats I had two, count 'em, two conversations about how hard it is to focus these days. Also, most importantly, my beloved sister, Debbie, is in quarantine in Boston, in an old rehab center that has been opened up. Prayers and good thoughts welcomed.
Onward all, onward.
If only we all had a box like Bob does.