Porch monkeys

It's late afternoon, the sun is clouded over and the porch monkeys have cleared out...but this was Grand Central Station earlier. Peg was holding court in the wheelchair with Candence Little, then Marilynn Irvine, then Estelle Kinsella, then Sharon, our neighbor down the street.

So glad to see Peg getting outside. She wants to try a bit of walking and standing up instead of relying so much on the wheelchair.

Zoë was at a friend's 17th birthday backyard campout last night and went down for a nap at 1pm...just woke her up a bit ago. Peg's resting up for more friends arriving momentarily.

Small planet

So Joyce Mitchell drops by and our friend Marlene is thinking, "what are you doing here?" They both graduated from Sacramento High School in the late 60's and hadn't seen each other since 1968. Joyce has been one of my dearest friends since 1989, when we mutually endured a daily dose of hell working in commercial television for clueless, egomaniacal, incompetent corporate overlords. Marlene and Peg have been close since we moved here from Colorado in the late 80's.

We spent a grand afternoon together. Plus Zoë modeled a red sequined dress her mom wore to a KOVR Christmas party in 1990. Wow.

Friends and food

A flood of goodness today. Bruce bringing an autographed copy of Christopher Moore's newest novel. Marilea reaffirming her sisterhood with Peggy. Michael and Lesley showering us with love and dinner.

My sense is that things are coming to a close fairly quickly. Peg's getting a lot thinner in a short period of time. But on the other hand she's pretty damn tough and doesn't fit anyone's defintiion of anything.

Stay tuned.

The hunger games

Not just a popular movie at our house. Peg was in bed a half an hour when she had a craving for more food. On top of eating quite a bit today compared to the last few days.

Lotsa peeps dropping by today. Good, good stuff. Plus as a bonus I actually got Peg's ass outside for half an hour, until our neighbor's yard workers decided their "go-to" tool from Hell, the gas-powered leaf blower, was just the thing to clean out rain gutters.

Not a Christian, but I know Satan exists: Beelzebub is the only plausible architect of the gasoline-powered leaf blower. There is simply no other logical explanation for such an abomination.

Peg had more energy today and hardly napped. Started out the day with a "bed wash" including a shampoo from a hospice worker. Sure beats the hell out of chemotherapy.

The Wayback Machine

After our conversation today, Leann sent this photo of Peg that stopped me in my tracks. I had seen so few photos of her when she was 18 or so that I had no idea how closely Zoë resembles her. Bruce Patt took the photo of Zoë when she was 15 or so...she resembles Peg even more closely now.

Speaking of Bruce Patt...and Mary Patt too...

 

He shot this at their house a few years ago when Julie and Zoë were about ten. Fun to hang out with the two of them tonight. We've known them since the girls were three.

Got Peg's provolone packed in a cooler bag next to the bed so I can avoid the 6am naked dash to the fridge. And tomorrow's another day.

Two sick girls

Zoë came home from swim practice sneezing and coughing. Passed out most of the day in her bedroom. I'm refraining from picking my nose lest I transfer cooties from anything she's handled.

Our friend Phyllis, who was watching Peg while I rode today, said Peg was "too hungry to sleep" so she gave her at least a half a cup of soup and a popsicle. Doesn't sound like much, but it's way more than she's been eating. And the soup is "Suppa Toscana," which Candice Erba made with heavy cream, bacon and Italian sausage. If you're seriously hungry, this soup is the real deal.

Working on my bike while the girls slept when our friend Leann (Peg's dear friend of almost 40 years) called from near Boulder, Colorado. Was reminded that the deep sadness I feel about all of this is just a shared memory away from floating to the surface...I think I'm less "put together" around all this than I try to convince myself I am.  Can (and do) turn into a blubbery mess on a dime.

It's hard...but I can't imagine going through this without friends and family.  Just. Can't. Imagine.

A craving for Provolone cheese. Who knew?

So Peg wakes up with a craving for the sliced deli Provolone that Mark and Jill brought on Saturday. I go stumbling down the hall at oh-stupid-thirty to retrieve the requested half a slice...and she's still hungry.

Imagine a naked man lurching down a hall for the second time in ten minutes, more asleep than not, with a slice of cheese in hand. On second thought, let's not go there.

She was still hungry mid-morning when we "re-awakened." Had an egg and honeydew melon...no issues. Peg has kept everything down all day. Yay! I think part of the upchuck-free success was getting acclimated to being upright before going from perch to perch...and no sudden moves. Probably has a lot to do with being low on protein and dehydrated. What the hell do I know from protein, I draw pictures for a living.

Today is an example of our rolling ball of improbability. Peg crashed really hard late this afternoon for an hour and a half, then rallied again. Yesterday she could only eat popsicles, today she wanted real food.

A friend called today and said, "You must be inundated with calls and I'm sure you have a lot going on. I didn't want to interfere."

Please. "Interfere." Peg would love to hear from you. And if the rolling ball of improbability finds her out of it/asleep, there will be a better time to call.

Come for the love, stay for the chaos.