As you can see, I successfully loaded Haloscan, without hair pulling or screaming even. Triumph number one.
I was going to try and fake it for the next week, but it doesn't seem to be working. To be honest, I'm preparing for another cancer scan on Friday and facing some scary days. Freaking out that using an experimental drug will kill me, render me a drooling fool or make me grow a tail. Not to mention being forced to eat this stupid retardo diet of no iodine. You would not fucking believe how much shit has iodine in it. An all-whites egg omelet is not appetizing. Looks like scrambled jizz and tastes about as good.
I could say that I'm just not myself, but that would be a lie. I am myself. I'm handling this as best I can. There are moments when I'm downright freaked. Moments when I'm fine. A tear or two here, a laugh or three there. Nervous, anxious, O.K., not O.K. Times when I want to write, to chat, to read, then it all swirls down the drain and I need to disconnect again. Re-charge.
This is something I'll have to face forever, so I will get used to it. I will learn how to do this. But this experience it another new one and you'll have to forgive me if I trip my way through it trying to get my footing. Attempting to pull myself out of the quiksand, get a grip on the crazy and be able to write, but I'm not sure when that will happen.
Meanwhile, please check out the links on my sidebar. There are some great writers over there and some people that I love like crazy. (The good kind of crazy, not the I-eat-lightbulbs crazy). Take care of yourselves and I'll try to pop in on your blogs when I can. God knows I need a ton of distractions this week. Or attempt to draft something coherent myself if there's a break from being a deer in the headlights.
Love,
Betty
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