Tomorrow morning, I am off to the Big House for another round of FLAG, which, if you recall, was the same chemical cocktail I got in my second round of induction therapy that pushed the Zombie Leukemia Cells into remission for a short time. We're hoping that lightening will strike twice and knock those suckers back a few paces, at least until we can get the bone marrow train rolling.
If my memory serves correct (and I am sure I can look back over past posts to see what I pissed and moaned about at the time), my worst side effects from FLAG were excruciating heartburn and skin issues (When do I not have skin issues?). And I will more than likely lose what little hair I've grown back. Plus, my doctor prescribed super strong antibiotics as part of my aftercare which included the infamous Liquid Gold.
I have high hopes about what I want to get done during my incarceration, namely to finish this big ole long book I've been reading forever and get more Thank You notes written. We'll see how that goes.
The Mister and I had a nice dinner and date night tonight. Apparently some time during the movie, it started raining. Lord have mercy. We have a theory that God finally granted us rain because Adrian pulled a random drawer out of the middle of Parham Road this afternoon. You know like Noah and the flood. Except different. Sort of.
Whatever. Tropic Thunder was pretty dang funny due in large part to Robert Downey Jr., Danny McBride, and *shudder* Tom Cruise.
I'll check in with the world when I finally get settled into my new cell.
Until then (and for you non-Pajiban readers out there), here's some fun claymation. If I ever have to hire a domestic, I will definitely ask about their skills with power tools.