Milkshakes and French toast

Michael called this morning to tell me he had a big, thick, calorie-laden milkshake for lunch. He made it with full-fat milk, premium ice cream, an instant breakfast and a boatload of chocolate sauce. He was planning on French toast drenched in butter for supper.

"I ate more last night, too," he said.

In all he had 19 cookies and four doughnuts yesterday. He said he had some pain after the fourth doughnut. I'd have a bellyache after a day like that too.

Overall, the pain meds are working. He'll have that two pounds by next Tuesday.

One of my collegues suggested he might want to eat healthier foods.

We're not worried about antioxidants and vitamins and minerals right now. He weighs just over 100 pounds and he's 6 feet tall. He needs fat. The doctor said to feel free to pour heavy cream onto everything he eats.

He sounded a lot better today -- much stronger.

My stitch & bitch group met at a member's house tonight. Janet served gin and tonics, homemade split pea soup and salad. Before supper, we had communion to symbolize how we are together in Christ. It was so lovely. They asked how they could help me and I told them they already have. Their hugs and love mean so much and hold me together.

I used to think women together was such an unfeminist thing, but I discovered sisterhood about 15 years ago with a group of Muslim women. I broke the Ramadan fast at a mosque one night for a story -- I had fasted that day -- and after dinner, the men went off to talk. At first I thought it was somewhat offensive, but I spent another two hours with the women and discovered how important it is to be women together.

I find sisterhood with the Piecemakers. They held me up when my sister died and they hold me up now, praying for me and with me, being there to laugh and cry with me, hugging me ... I love them.