Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Life's Funny Like That

Obviously, I'm not a pro at this Cancer Center Stuff. I talked to a nurse, she took me to see another lady. I finished with her, and walked out, never realizing that there were other people to see. I suppose I'll get the routine down. After 3 1/2 hours there, I thought that Mary and I were done.
Bone scan today. Go there at 7:30 to be injected with radioactive dye. This time, I'm free to go about my business, so I'm meeting my auntie for coffee while I wait for the radioactive dye to course through my veins.
Back at 11:00. Scan takes an hour.
Radiation appointment on the 27th.
MRI on the 28th.
Something called a 'mugascan' on the 31st. I thought of Harry Potter, and muggles, and Halloween, and smiled to myself.
November 7th back to the cancer specialist for what is supposed to be the moment of truth. Yeah. They said last Monday was the moment of truth.
This time, hopefully, they really mean it.
You know what I realized? As stupid as this sounds, I can't not blog right now. I simply can't. It's almost like a compulsion. I've got to write it down. As fond as I've gotten about a great number of you who have taken the time to step from the shadows and become friends, I've got to tell you, even if no one read this, no one at all, I'd still be writing it all down. I'd like to be able to say why, but I can't. Not exactly. I've got these vague ideas that down the road at some point it's all going to come clear to me, reading back through these posts. Maybe that's it. To clarify these events in my own mind. Give a glimpse of the American Heath Care System to people like Bush Babe, who can't conceive of a country that tucks you back into your car, less then 4 hours post-op, drugged, with a bottle of drugs for when those drugs wear off, and written instructions for draining the suction tube dangling from your side (ack. revolting) Maybe it's to document a faith that will surely grow. Maybe it's words for my children to have, to remember that their mother was wise and brave. Right now, I couldn't tell you, not for sure. But when I wake up in the morning, my mind is creating words, and as soon as Tim heads out the door to work, I head for my blog. In any case, I apologize, because the point of this blog was to entertain. Life's funny like that. And it is, even now. But it's also big, and it's moving fast. I hold on tight, and try to process this all as quickly as I can. I'm also hoping that this is one chapter in a bigger story, and that around the next bend, I discover that life's funny like that once again.


M+B said...

Writing or journaling your journey is therapeutic, whether you read it again or not, what needs to be out of your head is out!

Blogging is even more therapeutic because you get feedback and support along the way.

And you know what else???

Sharing your journey may just help someone else, because Life is funny like that :-)

jeanie said...

Oh my - perhaps you have found a vocation to be the lady who has walked the walk and written the handbook for all those others out there.

Thinking of you every step of your journey, Deb.

Bush Babe said...

THere are two sorts of "funny": Funny Peculiar and Funny Ha-ha. You are very good at funny ha-ha. What's going on now is kinda Funny Peculiar. That's life.

And for the record, I don't come here to be 'entertained'... I come cause I feel a connection with Debby the blogger. Whatever her life is handing her... I laugh with her, I cry with her. I, Bush Babe, who once vowed never to be sucked into the vortex of the blogging world...

Life's really funny like that.


Alison said...

I'm listening.
I agree that journaling is therapeutic. You know what... Reading your journal is therapeutic for me, too.
My thoughts and prayers are still with you Deb. Even if my words are still a little stuck :-)

steviewren said...

Debby, you defined yourself in your blog profile as a woman who takes care of people, but you're also a communicator. Your writing has always reflected your own philosophy of life. You've been quick to note the quirks in life and in people and to find the lesson in them. Writing probably helps you sort through your own of course you have to write now.

Life is funny, whether we are having fun or not. That's what makes it interesting and scary.

Blicky Kitty said...

You are being wise and brave. I wish you didn't have to be. It wish your health care could offer you a modicum of nurturing and comfort. Maybe the strongest best part of you is finding a voice through the process of writing.

Algernon said...

The call to write must be heeded. We'll go mad if we don't. Blog away. We're following along with you.