Mom and Dad (and I) continue to be flabbergasted at the outpouring of love and support from #TeamEric. Mom sends me an email every day with a list of people (most of whom they've never heard of) Dad has received cards from. In the most recent one, Mom asked, "Are you friends with everyone on the planet?" I replied, "Nope. Just the awesome ones."
Dad is feeling less "under the weather" (yes, I know he has leukemia, and so does he, but his blase approach to illness is consistent with the guy I can remember staying home sick from work exactly once during my entire childhood), so much so that he was able to watch the Wisconsin game on Saturday and the Broncos on Sunday.
I myself was laid up with a cold all weekend, to the extent that, as I signed off with them yesterday, they said they hoped I'd get well soon. The irony nearly crushed me. I would agree to have a cold for the rest of my life if it meant he could get out of that bed and onto a bike just one more time. But life isn't a swap meet; there is no trading my health for his. So instead I try to enjoy the time we have and get over this damn cold.