Thursday Jimmy got some cortisone injections in his spine, and so far they have given him a lot of relief. He has also started taking something called Lyrica for the neuropathy in his hands and feet, and that is helping as well. He said this morning that he feels the best he's felt since he broke his back.

Friday, with all of our Emory appointments out of the way, we threw a few things into the back of the van and headed home. We were so glad to get here that we almost kissed the ground when we pulled into the driveway.

A few weeks before we found out that Jimmy was sick, we had started doing some long overdue renovations to our house: several windows had to be replaced, painting needed to be done, countertops needed replacing, etc. etc. Like most projects, once begun, one thing led to another, and it seemed to take on a life of its own. Then right in the middle of everything, we had to move to Atlanta. Everybody has done a superb job of finishing up and trying to put the house back together for us, but there are just some things that no one can do but me, and I haven't been here to do them. And now that I AM here, all I want to do to is crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head, curl up into a fetal position and suck my thumb. For a month.