Wednesday, May 12, 2010

D Day Minus 223 (July 28, 2009)

"What are you doing home?" You asked as you bit into your barbecoa burrito you must have just picked up from Chipotle.

"Making sure you passed your piss test for your pre-employment physical for Wegmans." I  plopped my purse on the counter and said, "I'm watching  you."  Your eyes got  fake big and you laughed when I tried to do my commando hand signals that I always messed  up. You know, where  I mime "I'm watching you" by pointing to my eyes by making a 'v'  with my  index and middle fingers and then pointing to you.  I usually pointed to you first then did the 'v' thing with my fingers. This time I got it right.

"No, really." You said. "Why are you home?" 

"Doctors appointment." I said. "Damn sinuses."  I poured some filtered water from the fridge into a glass and took my antibiotic as I walked toward you.

"I know your secret." You said looking toward the little black fridge in the corner by the patio door. My little Fort Knox of contraband Diet Mountain Dew and Diet A&W  Rootbeer had been compromised.

"Katie and I found it this weekend. What's the deal? You said pulling the buritto wrapper tighter so you wouldn't drop any black beans.  "I thought you were cutting back." 

"Shhh."  I said as I put my right index finger to my lip. "Did you hear that?" I cocked my  head to the left and pretended to hear something outside."  You shook your head and probably thought I was an idiot and took another bite of your buritto.

"You didn't see anything." I said ala Madagascar, the way you taught me.  Then I pilfered a Diet A&W from the fridge and took a swig.  

"So how was the physical?" I asked as I hoisted myself up on the kitchen chair. I put my right foot on the chair so I could hug my knee to keep warm.  You and Dad were trying to freeze me with the air conditioning. I guess the cold Diet A&W probably didn't help either. I put both my feet up on the chair about a ten seconds later and hugged my knees.

"The port confused the doctor." You said with a half laugh. "Yeah, he asked me what the port was for, so I told him. He was surprised that I had melanoma and looked so good." 

"Did you want to tell him that you loved your port?"  You laughed as you thought about the  HBO Special, you and I watched last Fall called "Letting Go of God," starring the comedienne who played the androgynous Pat on Saturday Night Live.  It was about Julie  Sweeney's journey through her brother's cancer and treatment. He had to get a shunt for his treatment. The way Julie teased that her brother 'loved his shunt,' made us laugh really hard.  It was our running joke that 'you loved your port' when you got your it last Fall. 

"Katie doing ok?" I asked, while you threw the last bite of your burrito in the Chipotle paperbag and bunched it up.

"I think so, but she really doesn't know what she is in for." Your voice trailed as you walked through the family room to throw your trash away. 

"Do you want me to come to your first treatment on Monday?" I asked.

"Katie said she wanted to come, but you can come with us." You said. I rubbed the space between my eyes to stop the sinus pressure. 

"I'll give you space." I said.

"Mom, you don't have to give me space." You looked serious.

"I know." I said. "It'll all work out."

"Are you afraid?" I asked.

"Not afraid, I just want to bring it so I can put this behind me and move on with my life. And I really don't want to lose my hair." I had a flashback of you and Morgan fighting for time in the bathroom.  You needed extra time so your hair was perfectly coiffed.

"Worse." I said, mimicking Jerry Hicks from the audio book "Law of Attraction," playing the game -- find a better thought.  Just the way you did when you thought I needed cheering up. 

"It will grow back." I said.

"Better." You said with the hint of smile and added. "It could grow back thicker."

"Better." We both said at once.

"I don't want to be bald." You said.

"Worse." I said.

"I could get some cool hats." You said.

"Better." I said.

"Not everyone loses their hair." You said as I gave you the thumbs up.

"Better." You said, "And, I may not lose my hair. If I do, it'll grow back."

"Better." I said. We both smiled and sighed. 

I left you with the remote and some Tivoed Alton Brown. Then went upstairs with my Diet A&W and iPod to meditate with Kelly Howell until Dad came home.

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