Hubs’ third cycle of chemo is coming up this Friday. Rumor on the street is that the third one’s a charm…in that it knocks you on your ass, makes you feel like shit, leaves you puking in your shoes. All that good stuff.
He’s not buying it. In fact, he’s convinced he’s already beat the cancer. Power of positive thinking. His blood work sure seems to support his theory.
In a mini-celebration, we’re going to see Stephen Lynch* perform in San Francisco tomorrow night with our friends Mike & J. You might remember J from the Bubble Wrap incident. It feels weird to be going out to a public venue with Chemo Boy, and he’s refusing to wear a mask, even though I offered to write “Fuck You. I have cancer” on it with a black Sharpie.
*If you aren’t familiar with the musical/comedic stylings of Stephen Lynch, you might want to swing by YouTube and check him out. He’s not for everyone. That’s why we love him. Here’s one of my personal favorites. (warning: NSFW)