Good Monday

My toes have disappeared. That's totally not what I expected to type when I opened this li'l window, but I was just reminded (for the umpteenth time today) of how seriously weird it is to not feel my toes. But that's another story.

We're having a good time in Las Vegas, Nevada -- although Eric spent five hours at the emergency room on Easter. He's ooookay... but slipped by the pool at our hotel and hurt his foot. His foot isn't having a good time, and he's walking with crutches, but otherwise Eric's in good spirits. And there's Eric for you: insisting on flying solo at an emergency room on a crowded holiday weekend, and still smiling and being the handsomest man in the room.

It's been really good to see everyone. It feels like a big, big, bonus.

Eric and I were here visiting my sister-in-law and nieces and great nephews and great niece (whew) on Easter two years ago, just before I was diagnosed with this ridiculous creeping gaunch. It feels like a long, long, time ago. We were happily anticipating our first summer off together, and thought we'd have many, many, more. We were even happier after many happy years. We were psyched.

This is a happy time, as well. It's very different now. My body feels alien and weak, and there's no pleasant anticipation of summers & summers. But it's the same, too. Here I am with Eric... still charmed by him, and still laughing with him... still feeling like the luckiest person the room. Isn't that a kick?

This is the perfect time to be here. I'm at the very best point of my chemo arc, so even if I don't feel so hot, I don't need to lie down 18 hours a day, either. All Mondays should be so good!