Holding Pattern

Maybe we're feeling news-less because we are in the old holding pattern, waiting for the potentially Big News next Tuesday when we go to Duke and get test results and find out if the cowboy can start chemo. And stuff.

My daughter Sarah flew in from LA yesterday. She will be here a month. Today is her birthday! She helps me out with such things as the nefarious tasks upon which I have procrastinated into the kingdom of smithereens. Such as taking the dogs to the vet. Or taking the dogs to get grooming things done. Man, I hate doing those things! Sarah is a professional singer/songwriter and computer consultant. My son is a professional singer/songwriter, too. I was, too, way back when...

Anyway, back to Mister Buckaroo. I'll let you view Bill through Sarah's newly-arrived eyes:

"Oh my gosh, you are so SKINNY!" she said, after seeing the 50-pound-weight-loss pony boy lying in bed. "At least you aren't as white as you were in the hospital," she also noted.

He was lying there grinning. "Hi, Sarah!" His eyes looked big and round, and his smile looked tired, but always sweet. Like him.

"You look great being so thin!" she added. "Want mom to make you some dinner?"-- the latter question somewhat compromising the compliment.

He made a big face like, "Ohhhhh, don't talk about food."

And in a few minutes, he was asleep again, like he is most of the day.

In the next post, I hope to tell you about our ROBOT. Yes, we have a sort of Mrs. Robot machine living in our house, keeping tabs on Bill. Oh, it's not a person. It's really a machine.

And she has a lisp.

More soon! Don't go away!