Yesterday morning, the army of ICE began a second offensive against the evil Empire of Cancer. Sorties began softening both the right and left side of my chest, with immediate results expected to be seen on the softer right flank.
Michael didn't take too well to the first wave of action. He puked all over a Korte Company t-shirt, going about six rounds until they found a cocktail that can hold everything in so far. Nobody laughed at the weird sounds. Michael's wife was back at the hotel room sleeping but would have laughed a little if she were here.
The troops are still amassing at the border. It takes about three days to get it all inside Michael's body and then, hoo-boy, watch out. That's when the fun begins.
Still, cancer remains defiant. "We will fight the infidels with all our single-celled might. We like it here. It's warm. There's plenty to eat. And this man usually eats pretty good food. We feel confident we can hold off the chemo-bambies."
Spirits remain high on the other side as well. Michael has been bouyant ever since watching the Turkish version of Wheel of Fortune. Unlike American Wheel of Fortune where basically people from the middle of Missouri try to spell their way to success, the Turkish version features hot twenty-somethings dressed like they were going out for a night of their fortune with spelling and guessing seemingly a n annoying side show. It's a mix between Caliente, the Bachelor and Press Your Luck. This seen makes Michael want to experience more in life.
A couple of setbacks have beset the army of the good, however. Michael has lost almost all his hair again. His wife is calling him Patchy. That usually causes Michael to respond that he wants more "care" out of his "Care-giver" and so far she's only getting a "C" grade.
Also, Michael misses his kids. He appreciates all the people who have offered to babysit during the expected rough and tumble days of late March and early April.
Attached is a picture of what a loving Care-giver/Care-givee relationship should look like. I'm the old person. Actually, the old person looks a little younger than me right now.