Sometimes my life reminds me of an engine with a clogged carburetor. I finally get it to moving along and then choke, chuggle, pop, pop, it slows again. I'm working on unclogging my mental carburetor, but it's seldom that straight line graph of progression that I covet.
I've been in Oklahoma 7 or so months and I've already reverted back to grease monkey metaphors.
Still, I have this unshakeable belief that I am doing what I should be doing, even though I'm not at all sure what the grand scheme really is. I'm still amazed that "going home" is soooooo far from what has become my comfort zone.
Mrs. W, breeder of the yet unamed lovely, Prissy, Dottie and the belated Millie, Fancy and Dollie, is undergoing surgery today-a masectomy. If you stop by and are so inclined, I would appreciate a prayer or good thought in her direction. She has given me and my family a lot of little bundles of joy over the years, and I'd kind of like to keep her around.
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cancer. Show all posts
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Cancer
Sue's results can back positive, which in this case is not a good thing. Thyroid cancer is "the cancer to get" if you've got to have cancer, but shit shit shit. The C-word is one we all fear.
Rolling that van probably saved her life-the initial problem showed up on a cat scan after a freak accident. Sue was broadsided going 70 mph, rolled the van down an embankment, and walked away without a scratch. However, she had follow up tests that led to this current diagnosis.
I told her that I saw the hand of Anita (Sue's Mom) all over this. Anita was not a subtle woman and rollling and total a van is not a subtle thing. (Anita, if you are communicating from beyond the grave and have something to tell me, please don't roll my car....)
Wow, what a heavy thing the past few months have been. Rolling vans, ripping trees, illness, destruction-what a long strange trip it's been. And yet, I can't shake the feeling that these things needed to have happened in order for us all to move forward.
No head shaving is in order here-but I'm off now to buy a couple of "Fuck Cancer" hats for Sue and I. We'd vowed to wear them last year when I had a callback on a mammogram, but it wasn't necessary. Since then it's been a running joke-"we'll get the hats if...."
My mother says I borrow trouble, but I think there is some grace in being prepared. How many people know exactly what to do when your friend has cancer? (Go buy a hat).
Rolling that van probably saved her life-the initial problem showed up on a cat scan after a freak accident. Sue was broadsided going 70 mph, rolled the van down an embankment, and walked away without a scratch. However, she had follow up tests that led to this current diagnosis.
I told her that I saw the hand of Anita (Sue's Mom) all over this. Anita was not a subtle woman and rollling and total a van is not a subtle thing. (Anita, if you are communicating from beyond the grave and have something to tell me, please don't roll my car....)
Wow, what a heavy thing the past few months have been. Rolling vans, ripping trees, illness, destruction-what a long strange trip it's been. And yet, I can't shake the feeling that these things needed to have happened in order for us all to move forward.
No head shaving is in order here-but I'm off now to buy a couple of "Fuck Cancer" hats for Sue and I. We'd vowed to wear them last year when I had a callback on a mammogram, but it wasn't necessary. Since then it's been a running joke-"we'll get the hats if...."
My mother says I borrow trouble, but I think there is some grace in being prepared. How many people know exactly what to do when your friend has cancer? (Go buy a hat).
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