can then get sick enough to get better.
when I feel I should be all “carpe diem,” but I can’t climb a flight of stairs
without getting winded.
boot, with all the time and energy that I focus on me, and others focus on me –
the doctors and nurses, and medications and lab results, and blood tests and urine checks … Can’t you focus on someone else for a minute
– can’t I get out of dodge, please?
push back January’s chemo session in order to go to my annual women’s retreat.
It means starting about 10 days after we normally would, which I don’t think is a big deal, but I’m not a doctor. He
said there’s no study that ethically could test if we push people back 10 days,
so he doesn’t know, but he’s not totally behind my request either.
fun again? I’ve had two legitimately fun days, when I went to a Halloween
party, and I went to the beach, and it wasn’t about me, or doctors, or cancer,
or hospitals. It was about being a goddamned girl, living a goddamned life.
Where the fuck is that anymore?
thinking so before I asked my doctor this morning, I started to wonder if I
couldn’t also get farther away from this
all – like Hawaii far – before the retreat then. And I started to put out feelers to people who know
people, and lo, there’s a willing and friendly person in Maui, and a friend
with willing air miles.
and why would I want to go to one of the most gorgeous places on earth, a place I’ve never been, when I
can’t even walk a half hour on flat ground? Why would I want to carpe if I
can’t enjoy the diem?
where I sit around and wait to get sick, and sit around and wait to get healthy,
and then do it all over again.
know what to expect; but the bad part is, I now know what to expect.
single text with, “but text me beforehand, just to check that I’m up to it.” I can
expect to watch t.v. shows on DVD, even though I’m tired of watching them. I
can expect to read spiritual literature every day, and know that it means
something to me, but can’t change how fucking stupid and boring this all is.
cancer; I should get a job.
to do. This is where I am, and what I have to do now. The disease and the cure
don’t care that I’m tired of them, I have to do it anyway. I don’t want to die.
(I imagine this is where someone posts that poster of the kitten in a tree, saying Hang In There.) Puke.