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.
Tue Jan 19

Jake and kimchi…

Jake is a gassy little dog to begin with.  Boston Terriers are like that.  Today is one of the worst.  Every so often this wave of rotten cabbage scent makes itself known and I look over and he’s laying there, one eye open, making sure he got me.  I can only compare it to kimchi, for you foodies, who know that kimchi is what Korean people call cabbage that’s been left in crocks underground gathering strength.  They call it fermenting.  I call it rotting.  And it smells bad.  Jake can make a veritable symphony of smells and yet he eats basically the same thing every day.  And he’s just like a person in that when you can hear them, they aren’t that bad.  But when he sneaks one up on you it’s terrible and will ruin your appetite.  Particularly for kimchi.