Friday, December 6, 2013

What a cold and rainy day

I hope you guessed by my title today that I am quoting Natalie Merchant, from one of best songs ever: "Like the Weather" - it's not really about the weather, it's about depression, which fits both the weather and me a bit today, so I shall sprinkle a bit of her in this blog today.

Where on earth is the sun anyway?
The color of the sky as far as I can see is coal gray 
lift my head from the pillow and then fall again
with a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
a quiver in my lips as if I might cry


Chemo yesterday in a cold freezing hazy blue room with Motel 6 circa 1982 decorations, no windows, and too many people crammed into the room with its white linoleum floors and overflowing toilet behind door number one two feet from me. Oh well. You tend to notice these things as you get to round three. It was so packed that my guests were invited to leave but then kindly invited back - they had to double book due to Thanksgiving. I overheard lots of stories about people on lifelong chemo. I felt great yesterday wolfing down my tuna sub and chips from Kris and homemade chai latte from Leila and my Japanese crackers from Stephanie.

Well today the toboggan is gathering speed down the black diamond slope of yech but I am more determined than ever not to crash into a tree, and maybe head more into a fluffy bank or maybe just do a quick flip in a mogul (seems spelled wrong) and then pop back up. I went in to the clinic today for fluids just in case and will go in Monday - a big fat schlep to a place I don't want to be but I am trying very hard not to get as sick because it's too awful.

Well by the force of will my lungs are filled and so I breathe
lately this big bed is where I never leave
shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
quiver in my voice as I cry

At the clinic I met a young man who just his first baby two days ago - a little boy named Wyatt. He wants to get him a Peacemaker gun just like the one Wyatt Earp had those years ago. He wants to buy it as soon as he can. Apparently this gun is a real collector's item now they say and I find this oxy and non oxymoronic (two types of moronic)' This young guy is getting his masters in math and business and plans to teach high school soon. He does not have cancer but instead a rare bone marrow condition where it does not work so he has to come in every week and a half forever to get his magic juice. Or he pees blood and croaks.

I hear the sound of a noon bell chime, I'm far behind
you've put in 'bout half a day while here I lie
with a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
a quiver in my lip as if I might cry


You overhear everyone there. A lady behind me is having a new chemo because hers did not work and the cancer is now in her lungs and brain and bones and adrenal glands. I don't know what kind of cancer she has.

Do I need someone
here to scold me or do I need someone
who'll grab and pull me
out of this four poster dull torpor
pulling downward

It is such a long time since my better days
I say my prayers nightly this will pass away

In the late 80s or so my friend Traci Fonville would spontaneously burst into singing this song and she could do it SO WELL - it was amazing. She would just belt out "The color of the sky, as far as I can see...is coal gray. Where on earth is the sun anyway?" She may have been better than Natalie - I was enchanted. I always will remember that. I wish I could sing.

The color of the sky is gray as I can see through the blinds
lift my head from the pillow and then fall again
with a shiver in my bones just thinking about the weather
a quiver in my voice as I cry


But it's not all bad. I am ok. Just dull and witless right now and a bit scared. This does not feel good mentally or physically.

What is this? What is life and what makes it misery or parade-like or sloth or angelfood cake? I think Arundhati Roy captured this essence in the title of her book The God of Small Things. It is the small things. Cancer, this LARGE thing, I think will pass. I get that. Right now CANCER isn't killing me - but countless small things birdy peckin peck things make the moment worse or better. Can't swallow a piece of cauliflower. Can't get warm. Can't find my sleep cap. What to do? 

was pondering this with my dear friend Nancy S up in sunless cold Michigan with her host of dementors - we all have them. So I was writing to her about small things. 

An edited excerpt about this: 

Small things. Like how a sunny day can make life all better for a while. On your face. Tripping and banging your toe can throw you into a fit. Taking a bite of a deliciously perfectly toasted piece of toast with butter and jelly can be sublime. Having so many things in your hands that you can't unlock your car door can be the last straw. Maybe when times are troubled maybe it's best to look for the small tiny moments of happiness and pleasure. Like when I get a text from you that shows me that you understand me. Or I get to sit alone in the bathroom to pee and read a little bit of the New York Times. Or good song comes on the radio. Or I find a funny cartoon in the newspaper and cut it out. Or watch a stupid video (try Cap'n DesDes conversation #32). Or I send somebody a cute postcard and I spend energy on finding something funny to stick on and then decorating it with fun stickers. Surfing the poetry foundation website. The god of small things. So maybe right now instead of trying to seek a big change in an avalanche of shit, look for the small things that might be good. For the moment. Like a nice friend. A hug with Mike. A warm Fifi foot. Violet is scrambling me an egg. A perfect cup of tea. A pretty picture in a book. A ray of light as it hits the wall in a beautiful way. A distracting horrid magazine. A friend to drive me. My new warm coat. Or taking a bath with your baby - any age. Or brushing her hair. Getting your nails painted. Getting a massage. Or walking outside. Teeny tiny expectations for small things. Laughing at silly things. Slippers. I'm trying. 

Here is another song by Merchant:

JUST CAN'T LAST
I swear I know your face, I wish I knew your name
I wish I could take you by the hand
If I could name it, if I could just explain it
If I could only help you, help you understand

I can see that you're hurting weighed down like a beast of burden
About to break your back God only knows that you're human
So what are they trying to do then believe me, they don't understand
That you have the weight of the world today it's on your back
A heavy load like that is gonna hold you back, it's gonna drag you down
You know it just can't last, just can't
You know it just can't last
They thought they could use you, push you down and abuse you
And what's so sad is you've decided to hide all your feelings
Got more pain than you can deal with but ask yourself how can this last
I know you have the weight of the world today it's on your back
A heavy load like that is gonna hold you back, it's gonna drag you down
You know it just can't last, just can't
You know it just can't last








11 comments:

  1. You are strong. This post was easier to read, like easy on the eyes, like inspiring. This post gave me hope. Hope that, even though we know you're headed into a rough 10-12 days, that your previous experiences give you strength if only to know what to expect. I hope that the knowledge you've acquired from your previous journeys through this special hell of yours, helps you through this third round of rottenness. I just celebrated friends and family over Thanksgiving. You were ever present on my mind. I am thankful and blessed that you are my friend. I am thankful to know that you have many people who love you and care about you. I am thankful that V and Fifi have such an amazing mom. I am thankful that this third round of chemo-hell means that half the battle has almost passed. I hope that the light at the end of the tunnel starts to appear, even if it's just a pinpoint far far away right now. I am thankful for the wisdom you have bestowed upon me over the years. I am thankful for kicking your ass over Words With Friends knowing that winning that game against you will become rarer and rarer with each game that we play. I am thankful for the guidance you have given me over the years. I am thankful for the example you set for your beautiful daughters. I am thankful that your students get to experience a world class educator. Despite that, I am thankful that you took this semester off. I know it's likely that you need your students as much as they need you, but I hope that some time off helps you by perhaps decreasing the number of responsibilities you have. I am thankful to know that you call me your friend. I love you to pieces, Amy.

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  2. I read it twice. So beautiful.

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  3. Last day of Borderlands lecture today I daydreamed you sitting across the way from me. You with your fashionable jeans and heels and provocative questions. (No one can dress up a pair of jeans the way you do.) When you're done with these nasty cocktails, you and I will one day (finally) catch up with our elusive after-classes margarita. I swear we will! Also, I owe you a hat. xoxo

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    1. I'd rather have a date for margaritas later than a hat !!! Can't wait!

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  4. Amyjeanine, I love that you send pictures. I don't always see what you're meaning us to see………….like today's scrambled eggs…………………auntie m saw your wedding dishes.

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    1. Good memory! We are running out of some of that - using up makes it break!

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  5. Lovely Amy. I learned a long time ago that for me it is the little things because I have few big things. The highlight of my day is when I walk my dog. I always manage to take a moment and look up. Since most people are always looking down or forward they seldom look up. There is whole other world looking up. Like yesterday I saw a beautiful woodpecker. I breathe in the fresh air and feel the wind on my face. From the contents of your writings there are a few people there who seem to have it much worse than you and that is so sad. You are in a world that few have access to. Not everyone is living a glamorous healthy life. May you stay strong and offer support to those less fortunate. May your days be filled with more smaller things that bring you joy and contentment. Love you.

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    1. Yes, walking my dogs is one of my small things also, Vicki. And looking up. Listening to birds singing after I wake up. Making tea (loose leaf) when I come downstairs. Watching the squirrels in the back yard as I drink the tea. Giving and receiving hugs. And finding and hearing songs/poems that nail my feelings/experience. Funny how listening to a song about pain/melancholy/loss can bring joy, because it ends our aloneness. I love Natalie Merchant. In remembering the beauty of small things, Amy, you've illuminated them for all of us.

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    2. Thank you! I do think it's the small things that make all the difference. You are an excellent observer and that's one of the things I love about you

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    3. Vicki some of my best small moments have been with you and you inspire me

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