Aimee

Oh, saints be praised, I finally got to wash my hair last night, and as silly as this'll sound because it was only a couple days, it was so blissful, seriously, it was pure bliss. Sigh. God, you have no idea how bad my head was itching.

And thank you Angie (my bestest pal ever--I love you), FFTVStar (who's name, I think, is Aimee too?), Dane (who, if he were closer, said he would've washed my hair for me--I would've let him. I love you too, my sweet), AJ (long time no see, babe), Stephen (it has been a while, and there's no need for apologies--I'll e-mail you) and last but certainly not least Jeff and Nina (for calling and the beautiful card and just being all around fantastic friends) for the love and support, it helped.

I'm feeling a bit better today, but it still hurts like bloody hell and since I've run out of the high-powered ibuprofen pills Cathy gave me, I'm trying not to think about the fact that the damn Extra Strength Tylenol the doctor prescibed isn't doing piss. He's an evil, evil man for not prescribing pain meds, he really is.

And honestly, I really haven't done all that much this week, well, aside from whimper and whine like an overgrown child, which sucks because I have so much that I have to do, but I'll get back to all that when I can, I suppose. And tonight is infusion time, which I'd usually dread, but this time I'm actually glad it's here because it'll help this thing heal faster, and that's a good thing.

Now, if you've a weak stomach, stop here, seriously, stop-right-here, go no further. I won't think less of you for it because honestly, I wouldn't want to look at it either, but unfortunately, I have no choice but to look at the icky, nasty, unpleasant thing.




Still with me? Well, I warned you.