tri not II, putting cancer grrl to bed, and other assorted ephemera

This weekend I have my second attempt at a triathlon. This one is scarier because it isn't all hearts and flowers "you go, survivor" type deal. I guarantee you none of these peeps are telling each other "All that matters is that you finish". Sigh. Well, I may as well wake up to the reality of my mediocrity sooner or later. After all, I did majorly trash my body when I was a dancer, so what do I expect? (Meanwhile, Lou is happily trashing my favorite tri-sox...excuse me a moment...)

Back on track. Now, the second issue of the day is whether or not to retire cancer grrl and go back to being bloggrilla full time. I haven't decided. Since I have the tri this weekend, and some scans next week, I believe I owe at least 2 more posts. After that, we'll see. Once I finally doffed the wig for good, I started feeling less like cancer grrl and more like....well, less like cancer grrl.

Also, I guess I owe a Komen post, but haven't had the time to do any posting. The race was run, itwas not as much fun as last year, and the Ex and I were majorly late, so we had to run to the start of the run. But,we got lots of cool swag. Also, there was a very embarrassing incident mid-run which I have not decided whether or not to reveal on this blog....stay tuned...!

anyway, I have to stop lou from trashing my tri-bag. AT least I am a good gear-head, and organized enuff to bring all the requisite paraphernalia...

abby update

for anyone who wonders, abigail is doing well! she seems to have beaten whatever mystery bug she had, and is almost back to her old, semi-cranky self. and this makes me very happy...

anti-climax number 566

well, in the midst of the constant stream of anti-climaxes that has become my life with cancer, and the constant stream of depressing events that has become my life outside of cancer, one date came and went that should have been greeted with some fanfare and gladness and romping around maypoles, feasts, fetes, parades, entertainments, badinages and what not, but, was, unfortunately, a rather hum drum day, tainted by a slightly dark event which i shall elucidate below.

that date was: The Last Herceptin. wow. It's been a year. A year it would be good to try to forget for the most part, and I am glad to have it behind me. Now, down the road a bit, I have some scans, which always cause the requisite quantum of fear, humiliation and other nastiness. Then, if all is well i get monitored about every 3 months for a while.

does this mean i've beaten cancer and must now be decorated with myriad pink ribbons? Perhaps. One day at a time I guess. I suppose at Komen I will wear my pink hat and cheer along with everyone else, even though I don't feel much like cheering.

For now, as you may have guessed, I have another problem. My sweet cat, Abigail, whose name this and my other blog has borrowed, took sick on thursday (the last herceptin day), with vomiting and lethargy. she's had multiple tests at the vet, but, this being a holiday weekend, nothing gets read, and nothing is conclusive. she's been in and out of the vet's, and I am just heartsick leaving her there another night, but the option is to bring her home and then take her back if she keeps bringing up food. I think it's more stressful bringing her back and forth. there are those that disagree, and everyone has a very tightly held opinion on what I should do for my cat. Abigail, while not happy with the vet, has never particularly stressed about going, either, so it's not like i'm torturing her by leaving her there to be monitored, unlike Honey, for whom the vet's office is the feline version of the 7th circle of hell. I do what I think is best.

anyway, that's all beside the point, which is, spare a good thought for my sweet girl abby, the best laser pointer huntress in all of creation. Let's get her back home and back on the team...