Friday, October 12, 2012

Miss Etta Sings

Etta James launching into the refrain of At Last, the smooth, sultry tones are swirling around my head, at last... my taxes are done. phew. My accountant is a slow talking, quiet, sweet man who recently visited his son in Los Angeles. He saw the Leno Show while there {twice}, and Wheel of Fortune and says television doesn’t do Vanna White justice. He was pretty darned impressed with Vanna, her face, her figure which belies her age, her style, the whole package that is Vanna, she must have a personal trainer, he shared, and I agree, yes I do.

I have exactly two weeks left of radiation, 10 more times in the toaster, and I’m getting giddy at the prospect. For the first time I feel like there really is an end in sight, and I can barely even imagine what it will be like to have my life back. My plain, old, boring life, I’ll take it! Days free from waiting rooms and procedures that will hurt or make me sick, no drugs, no poison, no ray guns, no needles. I can just keep on feeling better each day, rejoin the civilian population and have so much more time, sweet time.

I know the MRI scare of last week will happen again, and I still have to deal with the HepC, although I’m surprisingly unworried... hmmmm, I wasn’t worried about cancer either and that kinda backfired, but still, I’m not going to worry just to make a point. I know there will be scare after scare until at some point the news isn’t good. That will happen when it happens, so I just have to let go and time will tell, as it does for all of us, in so many ways. I think it will all be easier when I’m not in the system, so to speak, when my whole life doesn’t actively revolve around cancer. I want out... and I’m getting out... paroled in two weeks, yahoo, I really can hardly believe it!

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