Friday, October 3, 2008

Life is Funny Like That

I talked with Dylan this morning, and that made me cry, because he did. I'm a sympathetic crier anyways. I did the pre-op stuff at the hospital. Tim and I went to brunch with Mary. I thanked her again, and I explained carefully to them what I needed them to hear. Then we tucked into our omelets, and found plenty to laugh about. Dix called this morning. When she told her husband, the Robert, about this, he said, "So. When are you going out?' She was prepared to throw her stuff in the car and be here this weekend. "No," I said, 'don't.' Dixie is one of those rare individuals that can find the humor in any situation. Loads of it. Indeed we had laughed ourselves to tears the previous night picking my new boobs. I promised not to get so attached to the new ones as I have with the present ones. It just seemed like such a monumental waste to have her here while I was unconscious. "Wait," I urged her. "I'll be needing a good hard laugh. Come then." She made some comment about not being the village idiot. I told her that she needed to stick with the script. (She's actually brilliant, probably.) I'm not part of a huge circle of friends, but the ones that I've got are keepers. The strangest thing is that surprisingly, I've become awfully close to a group that I've never met, my blog mates. How strange. You're the dearest friends I've never met! I've been thinking that in all of this, there will be big life lessons. Not just for me, but for all of us, for everyone that hops on for the ride, for everyone that has the courage to see it through.
Mary said, wistfully, "Isn't it strange how quickly things change?"
Yes, my friend.
Life is funny like that.


MuseSwings said...

SHIT! I saw your post from yesterday - the beast is named. Well, there it is - You'll be dovoting a good portion of your time for many months getting this cured - over - and done with. I just happen to be taking part in Susan G. Komen's Race For The Cure tomorrow morning in St. Petersburg - I will write your name on my shirt and take you for a walk in the sunshine by Tampa Bay! Your name will be written next to my sister Mary's (7 years ago and healthy and happy now) friend Suzanne (25 years ago and healthy and happy now) Olga - diagnosed just a few weeks ago and on her way to recovery. My thoughts and prayers go with you!

Redlefty said...

"Best friends you've never met..." -- you stoled my line! I was writing a blog post today and was using the phrase to describe YOU!

But I remember the rule -- you now have the right to do whatever you want, like deleting ta-ta's and stealing lines... that hadn't been published yet...

Consider me as having already hopped on the ride.

Scotty said...

Friends can be found in all manner of places, can't they? I'm glad to be considered one of yours.


steviewren said...

I see you've given us our 1st lesson already: "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine"

Bush Babe (of Granite Glen) said...

Funny... I have a funny story about the word 'funny'. With share it with you after you get out of hospital and are ready for some BB therapy.

I definitely count you as one of those 'great friends I've yet to meet (in person)'... although I am quite detirmined to do so. Here or there kiddo - your choice.


Debby said...

Well, BB, I'm all for a big party with the Granite Glen women. (Eh. The menfolk can come too...) When next you see your mum, give her a big hug, and be sure to tell her how much her e-mail meant to me. To have it waiting when I got home from one of the most awful days of my life was remarkable in itself. Mostly, in the turmoil of my own mind, I was wondering how a woman who goes to church every Sunday, teaches Sunday school, suddenly couldn't even pray. Not one word. You mum vocalized that, so matter of factly that I felt immediately human, forgiven, and understood. I will save that e-mail and refer to it often, just like the pictures of puppies and your children. Thanks.

Muse Swings: Run like the wind, my friend, and keep those Dr. West blog posts coming. I find myself howling out loud with my head in my hands. Stevie Wren is right. A cheerful heart DOES doeth good, like medicine!

Redlefty: I'm glad that you understand the rules now. Find a seat.

Debby said...

Geesh, Scotty, I left you out! Sorry. Why don't you grab a seat too. Thanks.