It's Sunday and Rick has made it through three treatments. As he says, there is not much to tell now. We have fallen into the routine of going in on Friday mornings, him getting the treatment, and then heading for home so he can recover for the rest of the day. Saturday is better than Friday. Sunday is better than Saturday.
The treatment team told him that he had a bacterial infection, but that was expected and normal. I'm not sure what the plan is for that – if they treat him with an antibiotic, it would attack the bacteria they're putting into him to fight the cancer. So, it's not chemo, it's not radiation, but it's not a walk in the park, either.
Rick's birthday is this week. He'll be turning 64, so I've printed up the lyric to that fine Beatles' song, “When I'm 64,” so I can sing it to him for his birthday. If you're old enough to remember when the Sgt. Pepper album came out in 1967, perhaps you remember how old and far away 64 seemed then. Now it's the other way around: 1967is long ago and far away, even if it sometimes feels like yesterday in my memory.
It's nice to know that we are still around to “need and feed” each other, all these years later.
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