it has been almost three years since the pool noodle moment. 2.5 since my hair went to the wind the drain and the broom.

but the blog stalls here ... why is not yet clear -

it has been 1.5 yrs since i rang the bell - nurses abound - all around - a line up of joy -

but no one in sight to capture the rapture

and yet a year ago we set sail - to new adventures - but to no avail -

and within six months. our love did fail.

however - i i shall regale - for there is so much love and light still to share

thus - i am sill here and i still care.

apres le pez

that night sleep did not arrive in any way it had before.

my bones were a hum with a burning -er perhaps eating that egg salad that has been alone in the sun all afternoon is not the best choice -

and the little tiny traiangular steroids were chatting with my narrow marow sticky self

and the flavour or hot dogs and mint was awash in my swollen and tender veins -

but - ahhh what dreams may come queen Mab - when in the arms of juliet you sleep

and what dawn brings - dark or light - at least we made it through that night

Après le first chemo I felt - well - like I had to pee like a race horse - sleep like I had never done so - eat because they said so and wait.

Wait to... See to feel - if it was going to be like all that info in the binder - like the heads up from the all the nurses - like the vets I had met who battled their mets ( not yours Michel Balan from last comic standing whom I love)

But it was just another day when I woke up.

Until the lunch bag and I had a not so hot lunch date. It has to be stuck in you xactly 24 hours after chemo.

Liza drove me to the clinic where I knew I would be seeing great nurses and also touching underfunded yuck.

We were early. I had a short sleeve shirt on for easy access to the puncture zone.

Enter the room. Unzip goes the bag. Dear heavens. Am I a horse? The needle was was huge.- it was like a PEZ dispenser. But so not sweet. Pre ow pre ow.

The care giver says - " Liza I can show you how to administer ... "

Liza is rarely pale - save for on a beach - in the sun by a pool - or when the Raiders lose - but her face was not of a crayon I have seen. She would not have even made Winter Wheat on a paint chip.

"Maybe not " said the care giver. With such a knowing grin.

"SO NOT" said the coward on the table in the short sleeve shirt.

And thus with a pinch of my bicept - this ugly long needle hiding in a easy grip rectangle was slowly inserted into my left arm. It felt like it took a week. But in that five minute week this I knew -

This was a potential life saving needle that not every one gets - as their benefits do not cover the 5 grand cost - yes really maybe more -

That this long and painful super hero shot - as I came to call it - one I might die without it - as it built up my white blood cells and kept my bones alive... Was a priveledge ...

A long and painful needle I accepted as my kryptonie disguised in a an ugly blue lunch bag in an ugly blue needle case -

Disguising nothing more than the ugly blue inequities in access to health and care....

Day two of chemo - and already I face the reality .. That not only is life not fair - but death is so not fair ....