Talk about impaired. During treatment I swore I was doing just fine mentally when a store clerk I know sent me to the store restroom to put my blouse on right side out (grin). My husband wouldn't play Scrabble with me either. And a friend still laughs at how I couldn't open the window I mistook for the door in a restaurant. I do NOT miss those days.

Erik, it will get better. I promise!

Edited to say I do not mean you are confused, Erik, just that the father out you are, the better you will feel and the less you will worry. You are still pretty close, relatively speaking, from end of treatment. Six months and a year from now you will look at things diffently, I am sure.