Pedal Another Mile

Bicycling, death, life after death.

Bad start - "ok" finsih

Sherri came this morning to be here in case Billy Jo needed something so I could run to work to grab more stuff.  I'm sure she didn't expect to have to help Billy Jo throw up this morning :(.  After six separate chemotherapy cycles over the years, I have become immune to Billy Jo puke.  I used to have that "sympathy puking" thing down pretty good, but my need to comfort and help her at her worst times overrode my need to join in the action fairly quickly.  Sorry, Sherri!

About 5-5:30pm Billy Jo woke up and while she's only eaten one small wheat thin, a small piece of irish soda bread, and some hot tea, she's been awake and "ok" the past few hours.  While we snuggled on the couch, her head in my lap, watching TV, I got a close-up of the sounds she was talking about. The sounds her stomach/intestines are making.  They should be recorded for use in a horror movie. It sounds like a growling monster. I feel so bad for her, and can't do anything to help make it better. :(