there always seems to be both good news and bad news. Actually, if you scroll
through these posts, I think you’ll see it’s mostly bad news, with occasional
good news thrown in just to surprise me.
This time the
good news is that I got my port removed (no, I was not deported, you punsters).
You may recall this weird little box that was placed in my chest. Nurses use
them to access your veins and give you chemo, or to take out blood for lab
time I was told not to use the arm on that side. No heavy lifting,
especially. But wait—I’m already under
strict orders not to do heavy lifting with the other arm because of the surgeries on THAT side. So how do I carry
my purse—in my teeth?
What I need
are minions. I can have them pour milk, make beds, lift laundry baskets, haul
luggage if I’m traveling, even turn the pages of a book for me.
because we can’t stop there, I’m advised to engage in a bit of weight-lifting
to build bone density. And how am I supposed to do this—with my feet?
being told to take medicine on a full stomach AND stop having a full stomach.
Or to get rest and plenty of exercise. Or to stop worrying, at which point you
worry that you’re still worrying.
It reminds me
of the old childhood joke that jellybeans are smart pills. Invariably the next
line is, so Joe bought some and then complained that they didn’t make him any
smarter. “See?” was the reply, “You’re getting smarter already.”
can lift a book, right? I recommend one of mine-- start with the lightest in
weight, which also happens to be the newest: A Little Christmas Prayer. It’s perfect for anyone and costs less
than a greeting card! (See all my books at jonihilton.com)