Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Save it for a rainy day
I am so glad I caught a falling star and put it in my pocket and saved it for a rainy day,
cause today was a rainy day for me.
I haven't been sleeping well. Generally I wake up a lot and even though getting to bed very late, I wake up early.
It was cold and gray and rainy this morning, with a slight chance of melancholy.
Had an appointment with Surgeon, just a follow-up to check on the burning meteor in my chest, heretofore known as my chemo port.
Hawkeye sauntered in, he always knocks before he comes in. Today he was accompanied by a young medical student; she was shadowing him today.
He said hello and shook my hand and sat down on his chair and smiled at me over the top of his glasses. Despite his scruffiness, he sure has a way about him. He proceeded to brief medical student on this patient. Me.
Another layer of reality. I am above myself seeing myself in this room. She is the medical student. He is the surgeon. I am the cancer patient.
In this place, this is who I am.
It's still strange and surreal to me.
"Well, this patient was a bit of a challenge for me. We put a chemo port in her, and the weight of her breast pulled it out, over eight inches of tubing yanked and pulled out of her vena cava and tangled up near her collarbone. Needless to say, she was not very happy with me." He looks away from her and towards me.
I nod my head uh huh.
"She thinks it was my fault. I think it was her fault" as he points towards Mopsy.
He continued his review of me.
"As I've discussed with her oncologist, we both concur that most likely there will be a mastectomy on the left side, although we will make that final decision after her chemo course is complete."
He looks towards me now, looking for an acknowledgment.
I nod my head uh huh again. I realize he is speaking to me. Not her. Yes doctor, I know this. I am preparing for this. He looks at me. I look back. We understand each other.
It was a fairly quick meeting. I won't be seeing him again for some time. I only have one chemo course behind me. I have 15 left to go. 3 more every two weeks. 12 more weekly before it will be time for Hawkeye Pierce to saunter back into my life.
As I leave the Cancer Center, the air and sky signal the rain will start soon.
I am really tired today. And did I mention melancholy?
Reality is making itself at home in me.
I didn't do much at all today.
I miss my old life. I miss working. Never thought I'd say that.
I have worked continuously my whole life since getting my work permit at fifteen and a half; first job, housekeeping and snack bar at a resort close to home.
One day in the snack bar, my coworker and I changed a couple of the letters on the menu board. We laughed our asses off all day long trying to explain to people about the tuney and turka sandwiches. We pulled it off and switched the letters back as we cleaned and closed. Some feat at fifteen and a half.
It was the first time I realized I could sell anything.
I have always worked.
I never realized how much it adds order and rhythm to your life.
I work in a restaurant, it's like having a second family. You work close and get close to the people you work with.
I miss the predictability and unpredictability of my job, and doing it all with my team. It's like doing Broadway, eight shows a week, and you never know what is going to happen, and how the audience is going to change the chemistry in the air and the show. It can be a rush.
I am so far away from them now, our little dinner theater production. I am in this little bubble, this cancer thing has become my complete focus. There are moments that resemble my old life, but mostly, this cancer thing keeps me very busy.
Busy going nowhere. What I mean is, days just passing, sometimes I don't even remember what day of the week it is. I keep having to look at my little calendar and make sure I don't miss an appointment. I flip ahead and look at all the appointments ahead of me.
Am I doing this right? I keep asking myself that. Am I doing this right?
This is a learn as you go by the seat of your pants trial by fire close your eyes and jump off the edge kind of thing.
Am I doing it right?
They called to schedule my PET scan. We had to plan the best day for it. Chemo again this Friday, probably sick Sunday through Wednesday. We decided a week from Friday might be best. Um, let me check. Monday. Cancer. Tuesday. Cancer. Wednesday. Cancer. Thursday. Cancer. Friday, yeah I can do it. It is strange to have to plan this way. So this week coming up will be my "bad week" capped off by more nuclear medicine.
I'm conscious of wanting to find a way to seek and find some joy and happiness and life separate from cancer during the "bad weeks."
Now what do ya wanna do? I don't know, what do you wanna do?
It requires quite a bit of energy to remain positive and hopeful and present and joyful each day. Maybe that's why I get so tired.
I am working hard at this.
When there is nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.
That's the opening of a song called "Your Ex-lover is Dead" by Stars.
Sometimes it's hard to keep this fire going.
One of the choruses in the song - Live through this and you won't look back.
I am the star light in my own pocket.
To be a star
You must shine your own light.
Follow your own path.
And don't worry about the darkness
for that is when stars shine the brightest.
Pretty profound for a calendar.
Most of the time I don't know if I am talking to you, or talking to me.
I have on new pajamies tonight. Thank you fairy.
Nothing like a new pair of pajamies to make you feel like everything will be ok.
Sh-h-h-h, there there now. Everything will be ok baby.
Night reader. I am getting all the light you send my way.
It's what keeps this little star shining.
Sing for me when I forget the words, ok?
Tonight I am teary for you. Must be that chance of melancholy front has moved south. I wish I could tell you this will get easier but what the heck do I know. Love You!!
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