Still no call from the oncologist’s office about an earlier appointment. I’m just sort of resigned to the fact that I won’t get in before November 9th. And you know what? That’s ok. I haven’t had any more attacks or flares or whatever the hell you want to call the pain that this damn thing causes when it decides to be a problem. Totally ok.
I’m going about the business of living, because I am alive and because this is what I do. One of my mantras is “fall down seven times, get up eight.” I just don’t know how to quit.

We had an amazing Halloween party at work. My panda partner in crime and I had matching panda pajama costumes and our hallway won the decorating contest. Because honestly, what rocks harder than pandas with Canvas emblems on their butts?
I am trying to prepare for what I think is an inevitable surgery. Mom and I talked last night and nearly everything I would need access to is on the top floor of the house – except an ample supply of knitting projects. So I picked out enough yarn for 5 (6 maybe?) projects last night along with the necessary patterns. Tonight I’ll gather the needles and notions I need for each and get them packaged up for myself. I do like a good plan.
I have a finished shawl at home right now that needs to be blocked. I’m hoping to get that done this weekend as well as the glass tree. Keeping myself occupied with creative projects definitely helps keep my mind off of all the worst-case scenarios. And the total bonus is that I’ll end up with all kinds of pretty bits. Winner, winner, chicken friend steak dinner.