I was thinking in terms of the hospital game saddle while the video links imply freedom, fun, camaraderie, wide open spaces, shootin' up the bad guys, roaming with your people..... we've got a 1950's juxtaposition going on and I'm letting it ride. I am back in the hospital saddle but it isn't the Addams Family haunted house or even a scene from those scary horror movies I can't watch.I'm also back into the literary mud puddle of giving myself permission to drool all over my stumbling attempts at articulation. I whined and wept my way through the insertion of yesterday's PICC line; curled up in bed and begrudgingly back with my non-honey pie of an IV pole, and as of this morning, the games have begun! I have agreed with gentle Dr. K's suggestion that I add Clonazepam to my smorgasbord of goodies, since I have the teeniest tiniest tendency to FREAK OUT at things normal folk might scoff at. Yeah, I'm a Type-A, hypersensitive, recovering everything, pea princess piece o' work at times. I realize that this comes as a surprise to many of you. And chemo land began this morning. For you curious sorts, I'm on the 'FLAG' program: Fludarabine plus high-dose Ara-C (Cytarabine) plus the white cell stimulating Neupogen. I have a mental image of the Neupogen flushing out those errant blasts I know are quivering behind my little toe or nose hairs..... and once they're shoo'd out, the big gun duck hunters will load up and shoot 'em all down. Sadly the collateral damage will keep me here in Room 4200 through the New Year, but imagine all the resentments I'll avoid about neighborhood parties invading MY peace and quiet. Some squeeze lemons to make lemonade (for example, the beloved and late Randy Pausch); I get out my butterfly net and leap for silver linings. Whatever analogies make my healing have its singing days as honestly as possible.
Oh I love writing when I'm space-brained! Annie Lamott taught us about "shitty first drafts"in her book Bird by Bird, and I'm slappin' my sides in this space-o-rama mud puddle.
I promised an address and here it is:
Diane G. Luboff
Alta Bates Medical Center
4NE Oncology, Room 4200
2450 Ashby Ave.
Berkeley, CA 94705
Every time you say a prayer to the God of your understanding, it lands in my being with more power than all the fancy-dancy expensive drugs for me here. Please remember my gratitude to you, even when in my abject selfishness I will forget to express it.
BLESS YOU ALL!
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