The End of a Long Week

It's a cold and rainy day, every bit as grim as I feel.  It's been a long, long week.  Yesterday, I had my regularly scheduled appointment with the radiation oncologist.  All is well and, if nothing arises between now and next January, we will officially end our relationship. 

I've lost another 4 pounds.  I don't really know what to do at this point.  I've been being a little piggy Sausage, but my mom thinks I'm still not eating enough.  I bought a new pair of jeans when I was in Houston because nothing I currently own fits.  I couldn't decided whether to get the size 2 or the size 4.  I went with 4, but after I had them on for five minutes, it was clear I should have gotten the size 2.  I refuse to buy a whole new, tiny wardrobe. 

I have an appointment Monday morning to get the stitches taken out from my latest biopsy site.  The pathology report came back last week and the nurse called to tell me it's morphea.  She told me to stop taking the antibiotics and resume the topical ointment they gave me earlier.  It really seems to make the rash worse.  It continues to spread down my calf; I'm so happy it's not summer, despite the rain and cold.  Happily, tights are very fashionable this year, so they're available almost everywhere.  I have a lot of boots to wear.

Last night, I rode my bike for about 15 minutes, did half of my physical therapy exercises (I'll do the rest tonight) and did some yoga.  I thought it would help my stress level.  I finally finished Morgan's Passing, by Anne Tyler.  I didn't love it.  I started a new biography of Fanny Hurst.  As always, I'm optimistic about the potential for my relationship with my new book.

It's stopped raining now.  I have to brave the frigid air of the atrium to get my lunch now.  Only three hours more before the week is officially over.  At last.