This is not to suggest that she hasn’t had her moments of despair. How could she not? But they have been rare, quickly overcome with a dignified determination to overcome. “I’m sorry, but this morning I feel like a whiny baby,” she offers by way of explanation for her rare lapses into anger, actually apologizing to me for her ill temper. I just shake my head in amazement.
Next up is surgery at the end of the month. Further treatment plans will be dependent upon the results of that surgery. In the meantime, the chemo is over with, a major hurdle endured and overcome.
As we enter the fourth month of our daily morning conversations, my inventory of dad jokes has been throughly depleted. I have been scraping the bottom of the barrel of late with some truly pathetic stuff, like these beauties:
My friend Jack claims he can communicate with vegetables.
Jack and the beans talk...
What do you call a sheep who has been dipped in chocolate?
A Hershey baaaaaaaa.
Did you hear that over a thousand dollars worth of Viagra was stollen from the CVS yesterday?
The police are looking for hardened criminals.
The fact that she still laughs has me worried that the chemo may have warped her sense of humor. Either the chemo or continuous exposure to my material. Regardless, yet more collateral damage!
So, if you are reading this, say a prayer for my friend today. And if you are cancer free, add a prayer of thanks.
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