'You can make an appointment to see us in six months.' Those words, from my oncologist's PA last week, were the sweetest words I have heard in a long time. For while I still have three weeks to go with my daily radiation treatment, I seem to be done for a while with at least one doctor -- the oncologist.
In reality, even with 19 and a half hours, getting anything done on the boat other than eating, drinking, peeing, sleeping, is not easy. Maybe it's the rocking. Maybe it's the birds, the clouds, the soft crests of the sea. Maybe because it is so very easy to sit and look out at the ocean and completely space out.
My eyebrows need a good tweezing, my hair is a tangled mess of curls, and I haven't even thought about makeup. I've been wearing the same shorts for the past four days. I haven't been to the gym. Every morning I wake up in a big, overwhelming fog. And I haven't been reading. Sound like a case of depression? I understand if it does.