A Spork in the Road

My last chemo fog, and so easier for me to bear. A fog nonetheless. Sluggish brain, neurons trying to fire through taffy. Taste buds asleep: Powerade tastes different from water while being entirely flavorless.

I can taste feta cheese and onions. If you can’t taste feta cheese and onions, you’re probably dead.

Waiting for steroids to kick in. My last steroids. (I hope, I hope, I hope. Every time I say “last,” I hope it’s true.) When they kick in I’ll be dopey but energized, instead of dopey but sluggish: doing stupid things faster.

Still, I’m managing to get things accomplished, one by one. Task by task. Dragging my addled wits together long enough to complete a task, then letting them wander for a while before corralling them again.