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Karen was almost chipper today, I had told the nurses last night to not disturb her with breathing treatments and vitals, and they listened to me, and she got a good sleep. Wish that I could say the same for me.

The gal from hospice house came and talked with us and I signed a bunch of papers... everything sounded pretty good. The transfer was arranged, she was supposed to leave around noonish.

But of course, it was more like 13:30, but that's OK, it was an expected delay.

She did eat a good portion of her lunch, and that, too, is a good thing.

They got her settled in to Hospice House, and then we took a tour of the facility... pretty nice; I was kinda disappointed in her room, only one relatively small window, but cheerful enough otherwise.

The move and the tour pretty much tired her out, so I put her to bed and came home to do more laundry and write and reflect....

Speaking of laundry, I am, like most men-folk, a laundry idiot.

A light load is one which doesn't weigh very much; a dark one is heavily soiled clothes of any ilk or color; and a regular load is, of course, everything that doesn't fit into the first two categories.

And a wrinkled shirt is one that has been left wadded up in the dryer for a few days... everything else is perfectly suitable for hanging and wearing... if the hanging doesn't get the wrinkles out, surely just putting on the garment will, as it conforms to the body's shape, right?

I am much better at doing dishes, though. If you wash them as soon as you are done with them, things work out pretty good. And if you do that, you don't really need to use soap, just rinse them with very hot water (scalding them, my Mom would say) and rub them all over with a scotch-brite pad of similar product. Yeah, sometimes it takes steel wool or a sharp knife, but there is not reason to fill the sink with hot water and add detergent. Detergent costs money, after all, and the dishes look just as clean without it. For glass and ceramic, that's just fine.

This needs to be done absent a female witness, of course. They don't seem to understand that there are two ways to do almost everything.

If you let the dishes pile up on you, though, you have to go back to the old, unimproved way....

Back to the subject at hand: Karen.

I am really encouraged by the progress that she's made up to today; she seems to have regained her enthusiasm, thereby increasing her quality of life, of course, and probably her survival time.

I will still end the same way, of course, I have no illusions about that. But the longer that she can be with us, and be happy and pain-free the better. I was thinking maybe two weeks, but now I'm thinking a month... she wants to celebrate her 67th birthday.

The goal of Hospice house, right now, is get her to where she can come home, and I'm all for that. I can be a pretty good caretaker, up to a point... and that point is when she says no more.

I have been getting calls all afternoon, people wanting to visit her... she will have friends and family coming from far and wide, and that will do her a lot of good, I know.

It's Andy's birthday, and Rhonda is getting him an ice-cream cake and they will be there about 19:00. Kim and Patrick and Lacee are there now, and will be leaving shortly after Andy and Rhonda arrive, I think... a little friction there, and I have warned both girls that they must remain civil when they're around Karen. Consequences for not doing so will be swift and possible fatal, heh.

Now is not the time for feuds.

Or preaching... her cousin Jan is "one of those" who had friends all over the world praying for Karen. Which is all right, as far as I'm concerned... but if there was a god, and it wanted Karen to live, it'wouldn't have given her cancer. And if it exists, and it did give Karen cancer, it's a mean sonovabitch, certainly not worthy of worship or supplication.

And her cousin Phil is just about the same way... I do much tongue-biting when I'm around him, and my defences are way down right now. I'm sure that I can handle it, but I would much rather not have to.

Karen is pretty much neutral on the subject... or she's just too accommodating; she might be laughing up her sleeve at both sides or one or the other.

I haven't cried yet today, except for this morning. I'm doing better.

Fuck cancer. Just fuck it.