Anne and I are living at extremes just now. She has reached the two year mark with no tumor growth. To give you an idea of how extraordinary this is, google gliosarcoma. That’s the worst part of her tumor. The number of people who get this tumor and survive more than a few months is not large. Glioblastoma, which she also has, is bad enough. But she is still mentally competent and in the process of overcoming her stroke, inch by inch. My girl is no quitter. Despair is not in her vocabulary. What she does have is a great sense of humor.
That’s the good part. The bad part is just weird. Yesterday, I was getting out of the car when some unseen thing nicked my right hand just above the knuckle. It drew blood–not a lot. It was no big deal. When I got home I washed my hands and that was it–until this morning when I woke up with a badly infected hand. Now I’m under treatment, but what the hell happened? What did this? It wasn’t a sting, the doctor said, but an injury. Problem is, whatever injured me was damn well invisible.
Then, this afternoon, I went to set up Dreamland and my studio is fried. I have to get a new mixer. But why? What kind of energy could blow out an old fashioned analog mixer and not affect the computer right beside it. I haven’t touched the mixer since last week. So what the hell happened?
We are real broke and I recently got 20 grand from a book sale. Thank God. The next day, I get a demand from one of my publishers for 20 grand. Totally, completely fallacious and out of a clear blue sky. So I get my lawyer to take care of it, which he does in about 10 minutes. Then the next day, our healthcare agency calls up demanding 20 grand, which we also do not owe. That gets taken care of. But why did these things happen? It’s like these people were under some sort of crazy mind control, suddenly making demands for all the money I have in the world within a few hours of my getting it.
We are both real tired, but determined to keep our wits about us and keep forging on. At least I have a wife who sees the funny side of it all. That helps. Boy, do I love my woman!