Came in to work to find there are company-wide internet issues. Can't connect to supplier sites, company benefit sites, etc. I tried to visit my bank's site - blocked, hit a link to something on Amazon - blocked, thought, "Wow, gonna be a boring day without being able to check in on Buffistas." - not blocked! Clearly I'm meant to be here! Buffistas are approved!

Erin, sorry about the unexpected "gifts". Furry roommates can be so difficult sometimes.

There was an Irish short story I read as a kid. An old saint buys a (I think) bullock. At any rate his conscience starts bothering him because he thinks he paid too little. Meanwhile the seller's conscience bothers him because he thinks he charged too much. So the two seek each other out with the seller trying to give money back and the buyer trying to pay extra money. Cannot remember title or author or even for certain whether it was a short story or short play. Anyway, if you happen to know what I'm referring to, please ...

I feel very sorry for anyone who tries to maintain a job through chemotherapy. Even aside from how wasted Hubby is, he's in a doctor's office a few times a week, and now he's going to be getting platelet transfusions a couple of times a week. That's a couple of hours right there, and the Benedryl they give him for the allergic reactions wipes him out.

I discovered something interesting about his world view. To his knowledge, he's never had a blood transfusion, and the idea of someone else's blood running through his veins weirds him right out. His sense of self is rooted very strongly in his physical being, and someone else's blood in his veins blurs the line in his mind of who he is. So far it looks like he'll be able to be his own bone marrow donor, and it gnaws on him, that someone else's marrow could be "down in the bones" of him. I'll try to get him to see that donations are neutral, but I'll let him have his wig out for now. I don't think it's anything about the actual physical reality of transfusion, he has cadaver bone in his spine and it doesn't bother him.

Spiritual beliefs are pretty primal in my house.

Weird. I've donated blood many times and I've never thought of the blood as mine once it's in the bag. Now I find myself wondering who else out there has a little of me in them. And it is indeed a little freaky.

I know logic has no part in this, but he likely has donated. Hopefully he can consider that the person doing the donation wanted to help him in his recovery, just as he wanted to help others.

Apparently we don't know how we will feel about these things in advance.

I feel very sorry for anyone who tries to maintain a job through chemotherapy.

A world of truth there. And yet so many do have to.

It makes me rethink my previous dismissal of the Jehovah's Witnesses refusal of blood transfusions etc as just silliness. I wonder at their reasoning.

Apparently I'm the body xenophobe antithesis. I sort of feel like rocks and bushes and radishes and squirrels and humans are all made of the same stuff. Emotionally, it wouldn't bother me to share, either way. Aside from medical incompatibilities, of course.

ETA: Though, I do get the body integrity thing--I have a lot of body horror at the idea of something other than me forcing change in the body where I live: surgery, drugs, environmental mutation, Hannibal Lecter, etc.

I am Beverly in this matter.

Hello, Buffistas! I am not really here. I am in St. Augustine, about to sleep the sleep of exhausted from five days of driving hither and yon, mostly yon, only one hither. It's been quite fun, but now I'm ready to not-drive for a couple days. IRN, my room has a balcony and an ocean view!

The zombie bone in my jaw doesn't bother me any, so I figure it's not going to be an issue if I ever need something more invasive.

But I get where he's coming from. Not right or wrong but more like a brain-stem reaction that you either have or you don't. The Jehovahs are still craxy though.

I feel very sorry for anyone who tries to maintain a job through chemotherapy.

Working helped keep me sane during mine, or at the very least kept me from spending 4 months on the sofa surrounded by peanut butter jars, but even with that, I never could have done it without a really supportive workplace that I knew wouldn't penalize me when I did need to miss work.