She’s been sick with the flu. Her counts were so low on Monday that she had to skip chemo this week. But she’s on the mend and resuming her nonstop pace. Today she hopes to make a cake. She’s already made several calls to her friends and she’s gearing up to design custom Valentine’s cards.

I scold her for a deed that is endearing. In truth, she comes by it honestly. When I was a boy, and my mother would come home from work, I would bombard her with requests and selfish enthusiasm. She would often respond, “Larry, I just walked through the door.” Now, when I find myself rebuffing Jordan for her lack of timing, I think my mom must receive a signal and smugly smile.

She is laughing in her hysterical way: multiple staccato gulps of air in quick succession. I have to pull the phone away from my ear a bit. – Dad, there are cats on the roof. More bursts of laughter. – Isn’t that silly? It makes my day, this random observation shared with me in an equally random phone call. I haven’t seen her all week. I’ve been on the road. I won’t be seeing her anytime soon, either.

Jordan received a very good report at her checkup with the oncologist today. She was just delighted to see him. She is very fond of Dr. Finlay. He was accompanied by doctors from Moscow who were visiting and intrigued by Jordan’s case. She didn’t mind. She’s also fond of a larger audience. One minor update – she is now able to take her oral chemotherapy pills on her own. This is a *big* deal for her.

In the midst of an animated conversation on the art of shopping, Jordan snacks on Trader Joes Spanakopita. Jordan sashays into the kitchen, swaggering from hip to hip as she often does. In fairness, her gait is partially out of her control. It’s the product of the way her body shifts her weight to compensate for the trouble with her legs. But she takes some joy in the sassy walk. She works it.