But Then I Had To Go Out After All—And Kicked Cancer’s Ass, As Usual

Just to get a blood test. Chris and I used a car service going and coming; we chose them because they’ve made a point of trying to make transport as safe as possible for their passengers and drivers.

The Macmillan Cancer Centre has it all figured out, too. They let patients in one by one––and only patients. Chris had to wait outside. Fortunately, we went in early so there were few other people occupying the widely-spaced seats in the waiting room. So that was Friday.

A doctor on my oncologist’s treatment team called me today and, yes, I’m still stomping the sh!t out of cancer. So I’m feeling pretty pleased.

I’d have posted the Back-To-Buying-Green-Bananas Report earlier, except that I had my usual eleventh-hour nervous breakdown and after getting the good word, I collapsed for a while.

Undone by good news. Even in the year of the pandemic, there’s still good news.

And as an added bonus: my jeans fit!