After chemical number two: Bill is still feeling fine...

I, personally, am waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop, but until it does, I can say that, to our unspeakable joy, Bill is feeling absolutely perfect, still.

And it's already almost 9 pm, Friday night!

We were at the chemo clinic (receiving the Cluster Bomb, Cisplatin) until about 3 pm today, and Bill endured receiving more liquids through his arm than Katrina gave New Orleans, or so it seemed.

And now, we keep waiting for a Bill-as-Sigourney-Weaver scene (they actually told us that, this weekend, Bill could feel so bad that he will think for sure that "an alien is about to bust out of his chest.")

Lordie! I could've maybe done without THAT particular image!

But so far, nothing.

And yet, we gloateth NOT.

It can all come upon us like a Stealth bomber.

Any time this weekend.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

This is why I don't watch horror movies.

But mixing metaphors doesn't really bother me much, as you can see.

I'll write again tomorrow.

Unless the alien pops out of Bill's chest, bites me, and I suddenly can't type because I morph into a hairy eel with fangs.

All kidding aside, our God is an awesome God, and, wow, He shows up in the most unpredictable ways.

Love to you all, and unspeakable thanks for your thoughts, prayers, and love to us.

Beth