I actually was a mean girl to one girl during 9th grade. I have since apologized and she was very gracious about it. My BFF from 4th grade was brilliant but screwed up by her awful family. It was her idea to do the bullying (nothing violent) but I went along with all of it so I am equally to blame. In her case, her parents were both alcoholics and had a scary, nightmare marriage (her dad kept a loaded gun in the house and used to scream out the window and shoot at any animals which went into their yard when he got drunk), she'd skipped two grades, she was somewhat chunky and she had all kinds of insecurity. I only bullied one person for about a month once, but she was kinda mean to me off and on the whole time I knew her. She would sometimes gang up on me with other girls or spread serious rumors about me until people stopped speaking to me for a while. It was not comfortable and sometimes it was very sad, but for some reason I'm not bitter about it.

Hubby talked to the oncologist about what exactly he has and what we're doing about it. Mantle Cell Lymphoma, stage 4B. There's a stage C. There is no stage 5. It's in his blood, but not yet in his brain.

We start chemo next Friday, down here if the local oncologist feels up to it. That will be a big help. They were going to start it tomorrow, but he said he'd planned on taking me to lunch tomorrow. They said it could wait a week. I'm torn between going "Oh, how sweet" and "God, that means it's not going to make much difference."

There's a treatment plan. If nothing else, they want to keep him alive so they can research him. He's going to lose his hair. I told him his brother will tell him he's being too competitive (brother started losing his hair at 17).

Thank god we get to sleep in tomorrow.

Aw jeez, Connie.

Sleep in and have a nice lunch

Hubby had been concerned about how fast-tracked he'd been. There's normally a months-long waiting list to get the testing he's been having, and department heads have been doing the procedures. He finally asked, and they said since the previous doctor had delayed the diagnosis, they felt duty-bound to try and make up for it. Plus, his horrific medical history has earned him some extra effort.

Huntsman Cancer Center, one of the best in the world. It deserves its rep.

He had a breakdown at the train station just outside the center--which he feels horribly guilty about, the stupid man, he thinks he's supposed to be tougher than that, stupid Viking--and a woman sat down and asked him what was wrong. He told her he'd just gotten his diagnosis. She said, "Look at me," he did, and she took off her hair, as he put it. And she said, "Let's talk."

So at least he has a tribe.

I'm so glad she was there.

a woman sat down and asked him what was wrong. He told her he'd just gotten his diagnosis. She said, "Look at me," he did, and she took off her hair, as he put it. And she said, "Let's talk."

That had me tearing up. I'm glad he has you and I'm glad he's got a tribe.

And I'm glad you have us.

That was really lovely, Connie.

That had me tearing up. I'm glad he has you and I'm glad he's got a tribe.

And I'm glad you have us.

What Aims said.

I think the fact that he breaks down upsets him most. His entire worldview centers on him being tough and not making me cry. And the more people tell him that it's all right, the more he feels like he's failing me. When I reassure him, I see the "I have to be strong for her" look in his eye.

Maybe there are benefits to not being stoically noble and all that shit.

That had me tearing up. I'm glad he has you and I'm glad he's got a tribe.

And I'm glad you have us.

Bears repeating.

Thirding what Aims said.