What it's like to be told you're terminally ill.

On being told "it's pretty far along", and the feelings and the thoughts and planning and all the crap that now I have to do. Come along with me if you want. It should be an interesting ride.

IF YOU WANT TO E-MAIL ME: CHEYENNECO@AOL.COM

I'm looking at everything as if I'm seeing it for the last time, which may well be true, and it gives me such appreciation for things I've taken for granted all my life. But looking at things for the last time allows me to see a lot of them for the first time, if that makes any sense.
Thu Nov 19
georgiegirlnyc: BVI - Day 4 Dinner at Foxys - a well known restaurant on Jost Van Dyke that I had never been to. Yes, I am a smug pregnant woman who insists on clutching her bump in photos. There they are again, the 2 1/2 members of the Turd family, having a wonderful time on their yacht in the sun, playing in the surf, and eating lobstah and such at  restaurants with a dead pygmy as part of the sign, while here it’s 50 degrees, raining like a sumbitch, having sloppy joe and mac and cheese and I can’t frickin’ breathe.  Thanks a lot, Turds!  :-P  

georgiegirlnyc:

BVI - Day 4

Dinner at Foxys - a well known restaurant on Jost Van Dyke that I had never been to.

Yes, I am a smug pregnant woman who insists on clutching her bump in photos.

There they are again, the 2 1/2 members of the Turd family, having a wonderful time on their yacht in the sun, playing in the surf, and eating lobstah and such at  restaurants with a dead pygmy as part of the sign, while here it’s 50 degrees, raining like a sumbitch, having sloppy joe and mac and cheese and I can’t frickin’ breathe.  Thanks a lot, Turds!  :-P