Going to the highly respected Moffat Cancer Center in Tampa on the 13th, and hoping will have quick action. Susan, my New York friend, who has been through this, said it isn’t going to do me in. She said “something else” will get me. (She’s a laugh riot.)

My friend, Asako, from ballet days, coming down from New York with her son, the 18th, for the week. I am hoping I can do okay by them. Didn’t want to cancel since her boy, 15 and legally blind, is on spring break that week and it’s his only time to come and he is truly eager to make the trip. I have planned a day with some kids his age. They are all interested in the arts and like classical music (as well, I am sure, as some current teen stuff) so we have common ground. Also, Ed will bring out his 4 remaining Rev War muskets -- Butterfield auctioned off his collection (somewhere around 44 muskets) some years ago. The boys at least will probably be interested. And Ed still has the elegant 4-color glossy catalogue showing his collection.

I also had an E mail exchange with Page, who was a therapist I saw in New York and who was terrific. We are in touch off and on. The therapeutic community discourages personal relationships, or I’d have her visit. She is wonderful. She has retired from New York Hospital where she counseled patients with you know what.

My sis is home from the hospital and on a different pain killer, that Don says is helping her and isn’t messing up her brain. But it will be a while before the effects of the “oxies” (oxycontin and oxycodon) wears off. My friend, John, down the street, told me her thinking will improve -- different periods of recovery for different people. He said alcohol is far worse in this regard and that its effects tend to be permanent. When I saw her this morning, she had forgotten about my situation and wanted to know why I was going to Tampa. When I reminded her, she reacted as if she was hearing it for the first time and was shocked anew.

Don, meanwhile, showed a bit of his dark side when he insisted, coldly and definitely ominously, that he had never said he thought some of her mental deficit might be permanent. He told me this at the hospital, now denies it. I let myself say, if you say so, Don, and he got even colder because, obviously, he knew I was disagreeing with him and he doesn't stand for that. The only way to deal with Don, is to stroke his ego and pretend you sincerely believe everything he tells you. Any other course leads to total war and I can’t afford to have one.

Every insight I gather regarding my sis’s condition that I pass on to him, thinking I am helping, he tells me he not only knows about it but already told me about it. I guess he thinks I have a mental deficit. It is impossible to deal with anyone like him. If it wasn’t for my sis, I would never see him again. What a sad situation. We go back to our teens when he seemed so very genuine and nice.

And before finishing this post, I heard from Page again and she insists I have nothing to worry about. It's wonderful to have people on my side, particularly knowledgeable ones.

xx, Teal