Plays Games, All Sorts

Ever since I found out that Dumbledore, my oncologist, is moving to retirement the Perfect Nanny song from Mary Poppins has been going through my head. Except instead of “Plays games, all sorts” and “rosy cheeks” it’s switched up a bit. Like “Super smart” and “Doesn’t try to kill me.”

I am on board with wanting a cheery disposition though. And giving me treats sounds awesome.

Instead of, well, poison. This new regime seems to be a tour through many of the “worst of” side effects I’ve already experienced. From the inflamed itchy rash to unspeakably appalling gi distress with all sorts of other un-funness added in.

I’m looking for someone who can make me feel good AND cure the cancer.

Dumbledore was pretty good, but I think I’m ready for the Mary Poppins of oncologists.

Before I got laid low, we were able to make it out to the coast last weekend to absorb some good healing wave energy.

And saw our first daffodil bud of the year.

Then when we got back, we found the first blossom of the year at our house and discovered that the bushes in front of our house are camellias. So far it’s just the one blossom, but we’re keeping watch.

We got our flower boxes filled so the one blossom wouldn’t get lonely while it waits for the rest to hatch. Thanks, Diana!

Love to you all,

Bridget

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