Dirty feet

Feet this dirty only get that way by running around and playing.  Anya is getting around well with just one eye to rely on.  Remarkably well.

Likewise, she did remarkably well with her chemotherapy the past two days.  Chemo has become a known evil to us.  After the surprises of the last few weeks, going up to the 7th floor to see all Anya's favorite nurses and doctors felt wonderfully event-less.  She joined the art therapy group, played in the car, and painted with ALL the colors of paint.  She even got to sit at the nurses' station with the nurses and go back into their storeroom for supplies whenever they needed them.  When Doctor A asked Anya, "how are you?"  Anya replied, "well, I will never be able to see out of this eye again."  She went on to explain what had happened and how she feels about it.

How does she feel about it?  Sad.  Yet never once has she felt sorry for herself.  Instead, she is problem solving.  She has asked us, "Why don't they give me a new retina?"  and when we told her they couldn't, "Why don't they just give me a new eye?"