Monday, June 16, 2008

There are Those Days...

when you wake up in the morning, guzzle a quick cuppa, down your vitamins, shower and brush, paint your face and then you put on the shortest skirt, lowest neckline, dangliest earrings and highest heels that the corporate world allows. You leave your hair wild & crazy, squeeze some mousse through the damp strands and rush out the door. Donning your Jackie O glasses that make you feel like a movie star, you put the top down on your red convertible, turn up your favorite music and drive a bit faster than you normally would, throwing caution to the wind and taking chances that you might attract the attention of the local po-po and find yourself with a big ol' speeding ticket. You zip off to work, humming along, seemingly happy and carefree on this summer morning.

You do this because you know that this will surely be the highest point of your day, that it will definitely go downhill from here. You know that in a few short hours you'll be sitting in a sterile doctor's office with your ailing mother and terrified father, listening to words that you dreaded hearing, never thought you'd ever hear, certainly not at this stage in your life. You sit there, trying to smile, crossing and uncrossing your legs, pen poised above notepad, prepared to ask the all-important questions: "How bad is it?" "How long has she had it?" "How far has it spread?" "Where do we go from here?" and then..before you can ask the question that you hadn't even dared to utter, the doctor turns to you and says, "Will she die from this, I'm sure that's what you want to know, right?" And you gulp and feel the tears well up and the room is silent and you're afraid to even look at your mother who is of course the "she" that he's referring to...and then he says,"possibly, probably, but we don't know when." Then the kind doctor who doesn't pull any punches tells her that it's up to her now, that she can't give up, that she has to be strong..and then, I quote, "You have got to quit FUCKING SMOKING."

And there you have gather up your things, shake the doctor's hand and leave with a pile of lab reports, phone numbers and a lone prescription that hopefully will alleviate some of the discomfort she is already feeling. You meet your children for lunch, guzzle a chardonnay, keep it light, force some laughter and try to ignore the giant elephant in the middle of the restaurant: CANCER.

You say goodbye to your family, jump back into your shiny red convertible and ignoring the fact that the sky is filled with black clouds and rain is eminent, you put down the top, hike up your skirt and sing at the top of your lungs while tears stream down behind those big black sunglasses. Because this is what you do...despite the horror of it all or perhaps because of LIVE. That's all we can do, each and every damned day - JUST LIVE.


Goldberry said...

Great post. Sad, but a great post. Cancer is a hard disease, for me, to deal with. I'll be thinking about your Mom and I hope that she stays strong and fights back.

daisy cottage said...

Beautifully written - and so very very true. Pretty much exactly how I felt when dealing with my dad's cancer 24 years ago.
I'm soooooooooooooo sorry that you are going through this.

Rapunzel said...

Thank you, Goldberry, for your kind words and for stopping by my blog. I hope to "see" you again.

Rapunzel said...

Thank you so much, Kim. If you have any wise words on how to deal with this horrible situation, please share. It is sooo hard. xoxoxo

Teacats said...

So glad to see your blog again -- I've missed you! And I send the brightest blessings, thoughts and prayers along to your mum and your family -- and of course -- to you. We Leos do have an advantage -- we find "courage in the most unexpected places" (quote from Lord of the Rings) Cancer has always been in my life -- my mum dealt with breast cancer from the moment I was born (nearly 50 years ago!) and she still lives and rules our family! Allow your mum times and space to be strong -- and have moments of supreme fear and tears. You can only do the very best that the Universe will allow -- and then there is that time to step back -- breathe and let it all go. Your family has the lovely wedding and fun times to look forward to -- and those times keep you going!

Jan at Rosemary Cottage -- almost Midsummer Celebrations too!

Rapunzel said...

Thank you so much, dear Jan. I have missed you, too!

I am trying to focus on the wonderful days ahead w/the wedding, etc. but this cancer has left a big cloud hanging over. Please do send good energy, perhaps we collectively can blow it away if only for a bit?

big hugs to you...xoxoxo

Aisling said...

Rapunzel, What a deeply moving post. You are so full of life. Just know that, and know that your prayers are full of amazing energy, just pulsing with life. I will be praying with you.

Rapunzel said...

Aisling, thank you so very much for your kind words and continued support. I am trying to hold onto my strength & energy and not let all of this deplete me. I know she needs that right now.


Jen said...

I am so very sorry. I hope she is able to quit.

kim said...

From one who knows, it is diffuclt to quit, but not impossible. My dad and stepmom did after smoking most of their life.

I am sorry to hear this. My week has been frought with bad news from my friends!

I can't wait to see more pictures of the festivities and do hope your mom feels up to attending the wedding.
tons of love!

Rapunzel said...

Thank you, Jen and Kim. Unfortunately she has not quit YET, is sneaking ciggies to the alarm & dismay of all. *sigh* She goes to the oncologist today, will see what he has to say. Continued thoughts and prayers will be most appreciated.