A post radiation visit to my radio of fame oncologist today.
He asked how I was feeling.
‘Feeling good,’ I replied ‘Apart from the anorexia and bald patch… And auras’.
‘Auras?’ He questioned (not fazed by the other 2).
‘Yes, not deja vu or seizures, more like a deja vu appetizer.’ I tried to explain.
He looked puzzled.
Then this spewed from my lips…
‘I get this feeling I’m wandering around a misty field and every now and then a memory suddenly pops out at me, it’s either a cute fluffy pony (good memory) or a long horned filthy bull with fire in his eyes (bad memory).’
Nope, still wasn’t explaining myself very well.
So I changed the subject and requested narcotics. I think after that diabolical description he felt I required them too.
I sense a turbulent ride ahead with all this chemo fuckery.
Blood drawn every month, MRI every month, 5 little nuclear bombs arriving via Fedex every 23 days.
So I was venting to a friend this evening.
‘You need a distraction.’ He advised. ‘You’re creative, find something creative and personal you might like to do for yourself to take your mind off what’s looming.’
‘Fuck off!’ immediate response.
‘Pooping on a glass top coffee table is creative and personal. Shall I do that?’
Everyone means well, but if you haven’t been afflicted with cancer or been close to someone who has, its almost impossible to understand what they’re feeling.
Unless of course you’re one of those super rare types filled with intuition and natural empathy.
All we really want to hear is ‘I’m here for you and I love you.’ No advice needed because this is something we figure out on our own.
I’ve said it a million times – Love love love is the answer.. And that’s it.
I’m heading into the Bermuda Triangle now for another week of love… And the added bonus of perfect pink sand, crystal clear warm ocean, 100% humidity and giant flying cockroaches.