|Selfie from yesterday. #truestory|
For those who don't know the story of TGB and the cancer and blah, blah, blah go click the link above and read about it in her own words. In a nutshell for those new: she was diagnosed about three years ago, they got it all with surgery about 2.5 years ago, we go in for check ups every three months, in February they found some not good juju in some cells and biopsied them. They confirmed the bad juju was precancer and scheduled surgery to get the rest. Yesterday they got the rest, no more pre-cancerous shite in my wife and more, intensive, follow-ups every four months for the next year. I can breathe for about 3 months and 28 days or so.
Enough of that shit. I have friends who have children fighting the cancer so I don't allow myself a moment of pity aside from the day before and day of her check ups. The rest of the time I dance, sing, savor as much of this life as I can. I recommend it highly.
I did almost kill a group of old broads. Holy fuck, they would not shut up long enough to breathe. Pre-surgery meant getting herded off to a pre-op stable of stations separated by a curtain and not else. We were in room 2, they were in room 3. At first it was cute; lots of reassurances from the two not having the surgery, some laughter, normal stuff. Then it went on and on and on and on and ... holy shit how can anyone have THAT MUCH shit to say? When the conversation went from their granddaughter who is lucky to get to be on her parents insurance until she's 26, but Obama is still the worst President ever without so much as a hint of irony, I finally threw in my earbuds and let TGB deal with it pharmaceutically.
If you and I are ever hanging out and you are the type who cannot allow a silent moment to hang out with us just know we won't be hanging out together very long.