Flights of angels sing thee to thy rest

This morning - or it might have been yesterday morning - I had a dream, or really it was more like being semi-asleep and hearing my sister Kathy's voice. She asked if I knew that Chris had passed. I figured it didn't mean anything since I would have heard about it...but turns out she did die this morning. Our dark joke was that she was winning the race. She certainly did go fast, two months since the diagnosis. I am relieved that her suffering is over. She was a wonderful person.

Six days ago - me, dad, Paulette, Kathy and Chris

I felt less horrible today in the various ways, for example, the itch in my ear canals wasn't actually pulsating. And I'm not as tired. Visited some with Dhammagita WHO BROUGHT QUORN SAUSAGES FROM ENGLAND. She claimed they were "vegetarian protein" with a lot of other food items. Customs didn't even look at them, surprising.

She also buzzed my hair. Since the hairdo necessarily operates in conjunction with the state of my head, it looks dreadful, however we are working with what we have here, which is a very messed up, burnt, hair-growing-in-moldy-jagged-patterns, looking cranium.

Knives at the ready?

It actually feels good to do something with the mess that is my skull. Will I actually go outside like this or will I cave and wear the wig? Will I wear the wig to the lunchtime meditation class I'm teaching downtown next Tuesday? I'm thinking about not applying the veneer of healthy-hair-look over it this time, but not sure I want to deal with the reactions either. In any case, 'til the burns heal my head isn't going to be seeing the light of day much.