Alison's doing chemotherapy again this week. Her news was hard to bear, but the realization hit me that I had unfair expectations. We learned that it's still the same threat. The same bear. I was hoping that since we'd shrank it some, it'd be a teddy. And to not use an analogy, we learned more about what was frequent enough and not frequent enough to hold her true. 2 rounds in 12 weeks is too infrequent.
I had duty yesterday, and the carpet was being installed. The installers were supposed to move the furniture out and put it back afterwards, but as I was there when they removed everything, I realized that they would make the bed, replace clothes in the closet, etc. Thankful for that, too, I am. Don't want some hubba bubba touching my skivvies. Anyways, with duty I was forced to go back to work and remain there. But two guys have come for two hours each to hold down the fort for me. So I was able to come make the beds and tidy the house, so Alison would be comfortable and the burden would not fall on her. That's brotherhood I tell you. I'm very thankful for friends, but more significantly, I think that's what Marines do: we take care of each other.
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