Cabernet and Carboplatin

It can't get much worse... Actually it could. I could be dead, and I remind myself of that often. And lately the thoughts of wishing I hadn't made it have diminished. And that's because I AM getting better. Stronger. More confident. More independent. Taking a break from occupational therapy has not helped my arm, so I'm glad I'm going back next week. My primary care doctor gave me a very low dose prescription of gabapentin to take at night to help with phantom limb pain, and in addition, it is helping me sleep. Being rested does help make the world a little brighter. Tonight, New Year's Eve, we are having a few friends over for middle-eastern takeout. We finally got me a rolling chair for the kitchen, so I will bake a cake with minimal help. And we will drink good wine and look forward to the worst year of my life being over. I've never been one for New Year's resolutions, but I do resolve to walk in 2023. It might be with a walker or crutches, b

Well, it appears that I have done all I can do in physical therapy until I get a prosthetic, so I'm free of hippity hopping down the halls of rehab, for at least the time being. The wound on my leg, which is keeping me from a trainer leg, is slowly getting smaller. It's less than two centimeters now, but until it is absolutely gone it's a no go for a new leg. Occupational therapy is another story. While my right arm is getting stronger, the pain is intensifying. Benadryl at night has become my go-to so I can at least get some sleep. Getting dressed hurts. Getting out of a chair hurts. I am so tempted to skip exercises to avoid pain, but I know all I'm doimg is delaying the inevitable. It sucks. I hate it. But while I bitch about my arm I know I'm progressing. Adding pilates to the mix is getting me stronger and more confident. And it just feels so good. So normal. Brianna, my teacher, is not wearing kid gloves with me. We are working my core, my quads, and yes,

Today was my first day back as a volunteer at Barcs. While I didn't walk any dogs, I did go visit a couple. I won't say it was enough to get a real dog fix, but it was better than no dogs at all. My real job for the day was socializing cats. My friend Asta was there because if something happened, like a cat escapimg its cage, I wanted backup. But in reality that wasn't necessary. I focused on Level 2 cats, who are more socialized than the sometimes fractious Level 3 cats. Of course, I fell in love with a couple of them. One year old tabby really wanted out, but I managed to give her lots of love (and treats) without letting her escape. She is goimg to make someone a fantastic companion. I spent some time with a beautiful girl who was really shut dowm. I sat and talked to her for quite a while. I didn't try to touch her, though I did put my hand in her cage. I hope she gets a foster home where I am sure she will blossom. My time at the shelter was not without its