Thursday, January 19, 2023

I sometimes forget that cancer is part of my body now. Maybe the tumors will go away, maybe not. I forget I cannot predict what’s happening next. I want to know the future, of course, I know that I cannot know.  I can only live each day.

Two box cutters tools arrive from Amazon. The tall man warns me of their danger, after all they had been used by terrorists on the nine eleven planes. I am not sure how to respond. I wonder if it means he will not help me cut up the pile of cardboard in my living room.

I have given up on John Irving’s long, long book and now am reading a shorter mystery book, A DEATH IN TOKYO by Keigo Higashino. It is difficult to recognize the names of the characters but the story is good. My personal librarian continues supplying me with more books to review and sometimes read.

My friend brought me five gourmet chocolate donuts from Carmel.  I shared them with two other friends in the evening who said they were the best donuts they have ever eaten. I am not alone. I am part of a community.