John and Betty came for dinner last night and brought veal Marsala. John thought a good wine might add to the evening, but I declined given the odd chemistry that's circulating in my system. I may only be a brain surgeon, but I don't lack for common sense either. We dined in the sumptuous surrounding of TS 669, a light breeze furnished by personal Air King fan, the busy hum of "The Forefront of Medicine" plying its healing rhythms just outside the door. No candles, but the white bed linens provided a simple nod to cafe life.
I've noticed a lot of comments about my "short game" and I just want to mention that it seems very cowardly of those commentators to use MY BLOG, established in my time of greatest need, to bring up and make fun of MY SHORT GAME! What are you going to do when you don't have me to kick around? I have meditation CD's that I listen to each night, my favorites are "You Too Can Chip", "Total Mind/Body Chipping" and "You Are Not Your Short Game" (my favorite). Since I'm semi-retired I'm guessing that my game will become one of fairways and greens in regulation, now that the implusivity of youth is behind me. We'll see, Spring is a short 7 months away. And have you ever met a old guy with a bad short game?
Lastly, feeling pretty well today -- my lesions continue to get smaller, but I don't think less dense. However, it feels like these things are on the move and the oncology geeks are all tilting their heads, squinting and pursing their lips with curiosity. They've not seen this before and it really excites the instincts for learning that got them here in the first place.