NOT, again

It is, once again, NOT chemotherapy day. To be precise, it is the end of NOT chemotherapy day.

Kevin needed to pick up a computer in Dayton today so I rode along to keep him company. (OK, it wasn't completely altruistic; I got lunch out of the deal.)

It was during the drive that we remembered today is NOT chemotherapy day. At the top of the list, this meant Kevin did not get to choose our lunch destination. You may recall that chemotherapy day meant Kevin got to choose whatever he wanted for lunch. Which usually included horrors like Goldstar Chili. No more chemotherapy, no more chili lunches.

The drive gave us some time to talk about where he is with the residuals of chemotherapy. Side effects. Thoughts.

The cold sensitivity is slowly fading. He is having ice in his drinks again but not yet able to eat ice cream or comfortably get something from the freezer. The neuropathy continues in his hands and feet. It's changing; less numbness and more tingling sensation. I have noticed less dropping and squashing of things by fingers that can't feel what they are grasping. He continues to stumble easily, especially on uneven ground.

I helpfully reminded him that there was a certain amount of clumsy which came into this deal. It's not fair to blame chemotherapy for everything.

He continues to feel tired a fair amount of the time. I want to remember this and make certain our weekends are scheduled to allow time for him to rest.

We've been told that when chemotherapy is finally over, many people can't believe how quickly the time has passed. Kevin feels like the year just disappeared with no accounting for time passed. For him, it was a year out of his life. For me, it was The Year That Lasted Forever.

But not any longer.