Don’t you hate when the finish line moves at the last minute?

She was supposed to have her last chemo on June 19.  I can’t believe it is here after learning about her diagnosis last Thanksgiving.

But, she has an infection, and couldn’t get her treatment.  She can’t get it until the infection is cleared up.

The cat lady t-shirt and dangling cat earrings I was going to send her as a, “Well you slayed that dragon,” present haven’t come yet, so, there’s that…

She doesn’t Snapchat me anymore with her trademark goofy optimism.  I think I already said that.

I’m copied on group blasts, like the one about the infection, but she doesn’t communicate with me directly at this time.  Does she feel sicker than usual?  Depressed?  Does she need someone pushy to insist on doing things for her?

I’m worried.

Shocker, I know.  Me.  Worried.

She isn’t acting like herself, but let’s face it, she’s a whole new tempered self.

What does a person act like when their marathon’s finish line keeps moving farther away?

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