pig

On our drive to USC hospital, there's a carnitas stand with a very fine belted pig on it.  It's just by some traffic lights, so I've been waiting for the day when there's red light; no cars in the opposite direction; no other distraction ... Of course, lunch itself, hours later, was - for me - a yoghurt and some grapes: this is just a kind of teaser to the imagination of taste.  Alice (whose chemo means that she is very good at imagining taste, but finds that whatever she's imagined turns to sawdust and ashes and metal shavings and salt lick in her mouth) was hoping that pasta-and-broccoli salad would provide some kind of sustenance and ballast.  Five down; one to go ... I can't speak for her (as she heads off into what are now becoming the all too familiar physical after-effects), but I have a truly nasty headache from six hours all those incessantly beeping infusion machines.  Small woes, in comparison - but.