Monday, June 5, 2012

Posted on June 7, 2012. Filed under: Cancer | Tags: , , , |

I am having fashion crises. I need to cover my bald head and my picc line arm. Plus the weather too often calls for short sleeves. And I like to look coordinated. Finding the right shirt and coordinated head gear isn’t easy that accommodates Chicago’s crazy weather isn’t easy. Such was my state of mind as I tried to get ready for week two of treatment. As if anyone in the onco unit cares.

Christy picked me up today to keep me company. I warned her that it may be more time with me than her schedule could stand. She assured me otherwise.

First there’s taking of the vitals. Then the changing of the picc line dressing. Finally the arsenic in the IV. She picked me up about 8:45 and we finally left about 2 pm. Christy and I chatted and caught up on all the topics yesterday’s recital day left out. When I got home I was tired, but ready to start finding my way through the disability forms. I called my agent and left messages with questions. Scott asked to help, so I asked him to pick up my matted paintings. He braved the rush-hour traffic and brought back my art and the newly cut mattes. I dropped everything and went about positioning the art in the mattes, which I did with glee. They look great! I’m excited. I also need to finish laying out two poems in paintings as well. I started one, but didn’t get very far. My desk is a mess and needs to be organized!

I also need to call my mother. Being her legal guardian, I am obliged to keep in touch and I haven’t spoken to her since Mother’s Day. I’m feeling ambivalent about talking with her. I have too much to say that I can’t say. She has dementia and although I told my brother not to mention my leukemia, he did and it went right over her head. That’s fine. But I still feel awkward in creating conversation. “What did I do this morning?” I was hooked up to an IV full of arsenic. “What are you doing tomorrow?” “Getting hooked up to a bag of arsenic.” If I manage to visit sometime this year, do I wear a wig? Which one? Should I go when it’s cold, so I won’t melt under a wig? Maybe I need to leverage her dementia and tell her it was nice to see her yesterday. Tell her how great she looked. The four year  old in me wants to tell her so that she’ll give me a hug and tell me everything will be OK…Trouble is, she wouldn’t say that. She would say, “I told you that you should have lost weight!” Yes, sometimes it’s better to rely on other people for your props. I did call her, but she wasn’t in her room.

Scott and I ended the day watching Mad Men. Good enough.


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    A writer and cancer survivor chronicles her renewed dedication to art and words..


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