The fuzz that gets on my tongue after chemo. Chemo is tomorrow, less than 24-hours away. The anxiety is creeping near. The sensitivity to cold. The icky feeling in my body. The stupid fanny pack that tethers me to the chemical for two days, until Sunday afternoon. The way food doesn't appeal.
We are having good friends over tomorrow night, Sam and Chris. Bob wants to cook some of his "famous" dry rub ribs and I insist only good friends come over for that. First of all, the ribs are hot as heck and could cause you to pant out loud, and secondly, the black rib particles get stuck in your teeth, so you can't really laugh with your teeth showing. Unless you feel comfortable with the people who are eating them with you.
And thirdly, unrelated to the ribs, I need guests who don't care if I feel crappy. And that would be Sam and Chris.
If I need to excuse myself, they will be content to sip Scotch or Gin & Tonic on the deck with Bob.
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