Monday, February 11

The View From Here

Not feeling particularly clever, inspired, brilliant, or any of those things today. The tolls of chemo paid visit for most of the evening and I spent more time than I need to in the bathroom.

I haven't posted for two days in a row for a while, so I didn't want the opportunity to pass. This "blogging" community is a curious one. People who I probably wouldn't talk to in Safeway I correspond with regularly, have invited into my home, and share personal secrets with. I guess it's like a chat room, only more.

What's on my mind today: my health, or lack thereof; the oncoming spring and how it will impact my job situation; the nagging feeling that something's going to happen in Salt Lake City and that it won't be pretty. I am old enough to tell the stories of Munich and how we watched blurry satellite images of terrorists and athletes on balconies and listened to the scratchy voice of Jim McKay as he relayed the unfolding story. Now that we try to predict what we once couldn't think about, is there anything "unthinkable" anymore?

I don't know.

Sunday, February 10

Just Another Manic Sunday

Well, what a week it has been. Things went south (literally) last week as my worst fears were confirmed over the health problems I have been experiencing. Looks like six weeks of chemotherapy, however, will make me better. Good news is that I won't loose any hair (I haven't been growing this Chia pet for 45 years for nothing) and the short-term prognosis is good.

I don't know what I would have done throughout this without Rick. As life often happens inconveniently, he was out on a date the night I got the news. I spent a long night imagining the worst, but when I got in touch with him the next morning, he and his friends were right there to help. Stalwart hardly describes how he has been since. Charles Schultz, the creater of Peanuts, wrote a book titled, "Happiness is a Warm Puppy." Happiness really is a warm hug from a caring friend. Fortunately, Rick is one of the best huggers I know.

I can't really say how I feel right now. It's something like my reaction post September 11th, when I learned my former partner of eight years had died in the WTC. I felt paralized, detached, defeated. Part of me want to receed right now -- wait for the clouds to move on. I know that won't work. I'm also like the lion who want to find solitude to lick his wounds. Instead, I'm seeking out people and places. Finding life and a pace therein. Not easy when your mortality hangs before your face each week in a IV bag.

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On to happier things. I have long been a fan of the movie "A Beautiful Thing," a film Rick had never seen until Bravo rebroadcast it a few weeks ago. Can't recommend this film enough to anyone. It's a great story about love and hope.

We all need that.