Back home in less than 48 hours

A persistent cough, shortness of breath, and relentless fatigue have contributed a lot to Jimmy's overall puniness lately.  There's so much going on with him, it's hard to know what's what.  Is it the cancer?  Is it the chemo?  Is it the pine pollen?  Is he neutropenic? Is it his childhood asthma resurfacing?

He was feeling pretty rotten last week, so Friday I packed him up and took him and Andy to the beach, intending to stay for a while.  The salt air does him good.  I spent yesterday settling in, stocking the larder, and putting my plants out.  ( I've gotten where I haul my favorite six houseplants around with me if I'm going to be gone over a week.  They're getting a little elderly-looking these days, but aren't we all, and I've grown fond of them.)

It was not meant to be.  Jimmy awakened this morning, or rather, I awakened him because his breathing sounded funny, and when I put my hand on his forehead it was burning hot, with fever 101.  I called the doctor who prescribed Levaquin, and packed up all the food and the plants and the dog and my paints and canvases that I had intended to work on, and hightailed it back to Valdosta.

Jimmy'll probably have X-rays tomorrow to try to find out what's going on.  Lord, I hope it's not pneumonia again.