how do you like your blue-eyed boy now Mister Death

Lines of poems rattle around in my head as I process facing death. This one is from a poem by e e cummings called “Buffalo Bill.” I can’t find it in Poems 1923-1954. But it comes up quickly enough on a google search. I find that cummings lines have a beauty that fits my mood

I emailed my therapist and resigned therapy. I wanted to continue but my energy is so unpredictable. I switched my NYT subscription to everyday home delivery You were right Elizabeth. I look forward to that. Zingerman’s has a sale so I’m working on that plus I have to order some birthday gifts for upcoming birthdays.

I don’t think cancer kills you very quickly so there’s that.

Other than these morbid thoughts, I am feeling quite well. Eileen is bearing up quite well and is continuing to be an unsurprising source of strength. Speaking of strength, I am feeling stronger but am suspicious of mistaking mood for improvement.

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