I’m trying to stay on top of things. My dad went to see a very good doctor at the end of last month. Their plan is to test for/treat the least invasive/most easily fixable things first. “Because,” my father so serenely says, “if it’s metastatic melanoma, I’m dead in the
So there’s probably something wrong with my dad’s brain. He’s got word loss and short term memory loss. The last six months, it’s become markedly pronounced. He has appointments to see some specialists at the end of the month, and from there I guess they’ll start whittling down the list
I looooovve this time of year. Not the least of reasons why is that my mom busts out this serving tray for Thanksgiving and uses it for the rest of the holiday season. It is a remnant of Fred, who has posthumously become my favorite Freaky Uncle Who Was Not
Baby J arrived just in time for the Great Horkfest of 2008 here at the Nahm household. I might be tempted to point the accusatory-illness finger at our new houseguest – we were all fine until he arrived. Except everything I’ve pointed at recently gets puked on. I am the
Guess where I spent Thursday, my Peeps? That’s right. Spa Day. Glorious, all day Spa Day. At a real spa, even. Why weren’t you there? We should totally go together next time. I decided to smuggle a camera in and photo-document. That’s how much I love you. This is a