The Big "C".

I hate that when we get older the chance of being diagnosed with the Big "C" is getting common. Or so it seems. Maybe I just ignored all those conversations going on around me as I was growing up or didn't understand. I understand now, that tests and retests, and biopsies, and MRI's and CAT scans can scare the bejeezus out of you until the results are returned. That makes for sleepless nights, worry, stress, upset stomachs, and now you are sick. My spice has been undergoing this process since early April. Not fun, we both fretted and worried. We now understand that when you get old, things change in your body and we accept that if you live long enough, you will probably have some form of cancer do something you don't particularly like to some part of you that you may or may not need.

The really good news, finally, is the Flame has no gruesome grubby growths. Whoo Hooo. Now if I could get a good nights sleep and be able to eat some salsa without a tablespoon of something yucky, it would feel even better.

There ought to be a better way to ease folks into the situation. Like maybe a cure. Wouldn't that be just dandy.