Hello? Hello...Hello...hello...hello... (it's an echo...something ducks don't have.)
So. My mom doesn't have Lymphoma. One would think this was a cause for celebration. If this one wasn't me mum. Her response was quite simply, "well now I'm back to square one. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me." Which is quite a lie really, because we know several things that are wrong with her. All of which she will tell anyone willing to listen. BUT! But, she doesn't have cancer. I felt compelled to remind her of this several times during our conversation. She didn't get it.
I understand her frustration. We've been driving back and forth to Mayo clinic a lot over the past couple of months, and you would think we would have some sort of answer as to why she has elevated white cell counts, or why she has "masses" forming in her legs and one behind her lungs. What we do know is the masses are not Lymphocytes. I think they're little pockets of unrecognized emotions. But that's just how I think. Mom very rarely comes to terms with emotions, or realities. Actually most of us in the family "deal" with life in this manner. We just bury it. Deep. It seems perfectly logical in my view of "the big picture" that these repressed feelings would form 'tumors' in the physical. But I'm not a doctor, nor do I play one on t.v.
Mom wants cancer. Well, maybe not cancer, really. But sometimes I think she wants an out. A Bright light exit, if you will. I get that. At times it strikes me that unless I am hit by a bus, swallow some Aqua Dots, or am killed by some space junk entering the atmosphere and landing on me head.. I will be living for many many more years. And some days this fills me with joy, "Oooooh so many sun rises to see...so many happy times" (cue the sarcasm machine) but then other days...days for which Prozac was invented, I think, "Oh. My. God. I can't do this. " You know? And my Mom has heavier chains than I. The ones we carry you know? Or not. Maybe you don't carry a load...and if not I probably secretly (or not so) hate you. Ok not hate, exactly, cuz I don't be hatin'.
Well, shucks. I need to get to bed. It was a long day at work. I need to finish this 40 of Miller Lite and get to sleep. What? It's the warm milk of white trash.
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6 comments:
I've just found your blog and I found your post really interesting and insightful. I'm glad that your mom doesn't have cancer. I hope she gets to the bottom of the health issues.
Well, as you know, my mom died of cancer and my dad was hit by a bus HAH! (it always sounds funny to say it, I know that is tacky of me but there you have it) - so I totally agree with you about the white light exit. What a great phrase. I'm happy she doesn't have cancer Jase. I'd hate to think of you going through that ugly ordeal. Exspeshully see'in as you've had quite enuff of that thar crapolski in this life. I wonder what form her denied emotions will finally take? I wonder what mine will too, for that matter...
Kimberly ann - Thanks for stopping by and your kind words. Feel free to stumble through anytime.
Ang - your dad was hit by a bus! LOL (see I can be tacky too.) You know I'm kiddin'...right oO
Anyhoo. I, of course, am very glad mom is cancer free. She's bat shit crazy at times, but I love her and like her lots too.
My denied emotions will manifest to me as a pony. with a ribbon. I originally typed "my denied ponies will manifest..." Who would deny a pony?!
I should look through my pictures because I'm sure I have a very nice picture of you, your mom, yer father, and PJ. Your mom was quite pretty. A gentle face.
Remember when my dad walked in behind you at that coffee house in Lamoni?!?! Jesus that was odd.
How could I forget! And I made some horrible comment about a "flashback!"
Dumb.
HAH HAH! Ahhhh...good times.
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