We really were on vacation, by the way. That wasn’t just code for chemo. Chemo starts tomorrow. Hip hip horraaaaaaaayyhackhackhhhhuuuuurrrrllll. I hope you liked the guest posters because there may be a few more of those coming up (if anyone would like to write something, just let me know).
Our trip, during which we rent a cottage on Cape Cod for a week each summer, had been planned since February and there was no way I was going to let cancer fuck it up. Because I think you can guess when chemo was scheduled to start. Vacation week. Of course it was. Until I told them I’d rather die of cancer than spoil our family vacation with chemo. They didn’t find that as funny as I thought they would, but they did agree to change it, so that’s what counts.
Last week was a much-needed eye in the proverbial storm. The weather, in case you didn’t notice, was amazing. Could it have been more perfect? No, I think not. We waded in tidal pools and built sandcastles and fished.
We collected and freed polliwogs.
We saw seals in the waters off beautiful Nauset, where it pours bean green over blue. (Which Husband refused to harpoon.)
I took 45 outdoor showers. I read books and decoded many a quote from Einstein and Descartes out of the cryptogram book Husband gave me. Because I’m a cryptogram addict. Forget sudoku. Sure, there’s logic to sudoku, but there’s no art. If Scrabble is the apple pie of word games then cryptograms are pot brownie sundaes with hot heroin sauce, whipped amphetamines, sprinkled with crack-nuts, and topped with a bourbon-soaked cherry. I love them so. Decode this: DYV UEDIORYP PDQQRGO UD RYWDYV ZED CGAYLO HV UEAO OIYPRV PIGAYL MEVHD.
One of the days during vacation, I managed to work bacon into every meal. Bacon and eggs for breakfast, BLTs for lunch, grilled bluefish for dinner with a tomato and bacon vinaigrette as seen in the Boston Globe Sunday Magazine. Yes, that’s right, we even bought a newspaper. There was no Internet connection, you see. Not that I didn’t try to hijack one, as I wandered around the perimeter of the yard with my laptop, holding it over the fence into the surrounding properties. Whatever. The point is: it was a fabulous vacation. I forgot my troubles and my troubles forgot me. Now I feel as though I’m ready for absolutely anything, though I would never dare say such a thing. That would be stupid.