We came back from Carei. Now Dan is at the café, reinstalling the coffee machine and cleaning up the place. Although we did not leave any mess when we left, I stayed home with the intention of doing house chores. Instead I slept until 11. First I woke up early, then I realized I didn’t have to pull my leg. I am sick. Whatever I would object to, the reality check says that my body degrades despite my efforts of preserving it presentable.

I was hungry and pealed some potatoes to fry with egg. More than that I do not have the strenght to do now. I noticed my slow movements, and I remembered my grandmother’s gestures, who was never afraid of the hot oil from the hot pan. These days I finally learned the difference between: lazy, sick and tired. Only after 54 months of cancer (4.8 years) I learned to accept  that I am sick and that when I do not know whether my armpits and backbone hurt more then my right femur bone, it’s recommended to give myself a brake; I’m not lazy nor tired, I’m just very sick, which is the hardest to admit.