Chemo Tastes Yummy with Chocolate Spiders, Groovy Frida, and Some Slightly Dark Planning

Fine, so this title might be drunk on fallacious wishful thinking (nothing makes chemotherapy infusions taste yummy) but… taking Groovy Frida with me will certainly make the experience better. The same would have probably been true of a luscious chunk of chocolate (that tried to escape my bite by pretending to be a spider), if I hadn’t already eaten it.

This camouflaged whining or acknowledgement of the fact that chemo meds taste like something has gone terribly wrong in your mouth is not meant to imply that nothing makes the chemo experience less disgusting. I’m just saying that I fight yuck with yum. Yep, I spend the whole time (my body is being poisoned back to health) sipping coffee… and snacking on frozen mango, baked corn chips, yogurt with roasted nuts on top… and yes, drinking enough water to house a very small galaxy of tiny sharks.

Also, I always go to long appointments with a project I enjoy completing. This week, I will write something for Friday Fictioneers (maybe add a bit to “Cages Can Kill”. There will also be editing, blackout supplies, and… of course, a delightful book or three to read (or to listen to, if my vision starts to get blurry). Then again, there is the chance that I will never get to any of these things, since my sweet Boy is coming with me… and not running our mouths is not one of our superpowers (thank goodness for that!).

the now gone spidery chocolate I spoke of, a mushroom sculpture, a batty-book pin, and a copy of Ghosts of Christmas Past, edited by Tim Martin.
(I can’t wait to share Neil Gaiman’s contribution with you! Soon…)
from Winter Moon Books

my Groovy Frida has been moving around the house, looking for a spot to call home. I think the Crow is whispering sweet nothings in her ear, saying, “Stay here forevermore”.  Yep, he really wants that shiny skull.
from Groovy Gothic

if you know The Insomniac, you will probably be as shocked as I was to find out that she completed her 2019 Slightly Darker Monthly Planner early. Nope, she is not possessed by the ghost of crafty past. I checked. She’s probably just trying to impress her gorgeous baby granddaughter.
from the Insomniac’s Attic (you can print your own copy here)

Yvonne, Emma, Lynne, thank you for the gifts (and for the company).
Thank you all for helping me battle the yuck with yum.
🖤🖤🖤

 

What about you, my Wicked Luvs,
how do you battle the yuck life throws your way?

 

Of the Love We Get and Give…

I was reaching for my favorite mug when a combination of nerve pains shot through my right arm and made me lose control of my hand for an instant. I dropped my favorite mug. My favorite mug landed in the sink… So, it didn’t completely shatter. I was left with two large pieces and some bits of ceramic.

“Neuropathy is a sneaky bastard”, I said to my Piano Man, who had run to the kitchen to investigate the commotion.

“You know it’s the chemo”, he said, reaching for me, stroking my shoulders as we both watched my arm twitch. When I tried picking up the pieces, my Piano Man touched my hand. “You don’t want to nick your skin. I will take care of this.” I handed the trash bag I had been holding. “We’re not throwing it out”, he said, and the outrage in his voice made me smile. “You can turn it into a planter.” I loved him more in that moment for those perfect words. I love him for so many reasons. I love, love, love him because he gets me.

This morning, I found my favorite scarred mug next to my coffee maker. My Piano Man wholed all the pieces before leaving for work. With a face full of grins and a heart bursting with love for a man who loves and knows me well, I filled the cracks with sparkles… and turned the new planter into the home of a wee succulent that I rescued (or plant-napped *cough*) last summer.

 

Earlier today, a friend told me how terrible she feels whenever she needs my help these days… We both know how little time and energy cancer treatment allows me. I reminded her that there have been days when I would’ve stayed in bed if she hadn’t needed me. She helps me free myself from traps made of pillows and sheets and rather costly comfort. Helping her helps my brain and heart remember that a friend needs me. There is wild healing magic in circles made of love we get and give (and of friends who whole each other better).

This belief is what always inspires me to give all I can and celebrate all I get. And speaking of gifts and wonders, I have a handful to be extra thankful for:

I’m grateful for the gift of my Piano Man
and my new favorite planter

I’m grateful for GJ (short for Gina Jr.)
a dolly crafted with love and yarn (mostly with wild love, I am sure)

I’m grateful for Gina, for winged thoughts,
and for stories inked with me in mind

I’m grateful for Rommy
and for creepy Gorey books that make me grin like a lunatic

I’m grateful for Susie
and for red and black skully ornaments that cheer me to no end

I’m so grateful for all of you, who keep on feeding my ink with your reading presence… even when I can’t be as reciprocal as I’ve been in the past. You, my Wicked Luvs, rocketh very mucho and heal me even mostest. Thank you.