It was almost dark by the time we got home from Atlanta today, and the trip wore Jimmy out. He read the mail, and I got him to eat a little supper, and he went straight to bed. It's only 10:30, and he's been asleep for ages. This fatigue frustrates him terribly; he has always been such an active, energetic person, and he finds the current state of affairs downright maddening. Patience is not Jimmy's strong suit.

Dr. Lonial called soon after we got home. He had gotten the new numbers from last week's tests, and he says they've stayed about the same. He wants Jimmy to have one more round of chemo (Tuesday, Friday, Tuesday, Friday of this week and next) while we're here, but this time he's going to add a little pop of cytoxan to the vel/dex. We hated to hear that. Cytoxan is what put Jimmy in the hospital the last time he took it, but this is a lower dose, so we'll see.

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We bought a Buick van last June, because it was the only thing we could find that Jimmy was comfortable in, with his bad back and all. We've gotten used to it: it's easy for me to drive, it gets great gas mileage, and it holds a lot of stuff. It's not particularly pretty or stylish looking. Rosey and Pat have appropriately named it "The Toaster", because that's what it looks like. The only complaint we have with it is when we're driving down I-75, and go through construction areas with all the uneven pavement, or through Atlanta, with its billions of potholes. Then it just about rattles your teeth out of your head.

Jimmy and I enjoy reading The Abaconian, the little bi-monthly Bahamian newspaper, online. An article in the September 15 issue addressed the problem of potholes, and the interesting approach the Bahamian authorities have taken to handle this widespread epidemic. They have employed Hole Spotters and Hole Outliners. The Hole Spotters drive around Marsh Harbour with a map and mark where the most glaring offenders are located. Then the Hole Outliners go out and spray paint bright red circles around the potholes. This helps unsuspecting motorists avoid them, thus preventing broken axles and cracked radiators. Maybe the Georgia Department of Transportation and the City of Atlanta should give some thought to this solution: if they're not going to fix them, at least they could warn us.