Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God.
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Monday, May 16, 2011
They STILL haven't called me about chemo
I'm not starting to worry that the cancer will have metastas...mestatst...spread while I've been sitting around waiting for them to get their bureaucratic, socialised-medicine act together.
I'm not sitting around every day with a mental picture of the little cancer tendrils growing and twining around my internal organs and strangling them. I'm not having scary dreams about swallowing insects that grow into huge boiling masses of horrible writhing goopy newts in my intestines. I don't jump out of my skin every time the phone rings.
Not at all...
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