My funk continues – maybe it’ll end today. Fudge – I say that instead of fuck.
A note from the depths of me pettiness and jealousy – moments in contrast.
We recently got some great news. My brother who has to have some cells (probably cancerous but we’ll know after the biopsy) removed fro his throat next week. It’s out patient surgery, no chemo, no nothing. He’ll be laid up for a week and won’t be able to talk for about that long. Cancerous probably, but the treatment is probably somewhere on mild inconvenience in the spectrum of cancer catastrophes. He is a 45+-year smoker and way overweight. He is the poster child for “this son of a bitch is getting cancer, and if that doesn’t kill, he is a heart attack waiting to happen.”
So anyway, he goes off to gets a CT scan, an echocardiogram, and guess what. The doc calls him yesterday and say, I can’t even express how happy I am that he is fine and yet, part of me is hugely jealous. I wouldn’t wish cancer on my worst enemy, but fuck, I do most things right (pastries excluded) and I’m the one who gets cancer. It kills me. It’s a karmic joke that makes no sense.
That’s not even the contrast that has me befuddled. My dear friend, Melissa is fighting for her life in Seattle from pneumonia that invaded her weakened immune system a year after a bone marrow transplant for leukemia. This is a woman who doesn’t smoke, has great weight, ran miles everyday, and blah, blah, blah good stuff.
If you we doing a blind study and evaluating risk factors the collective body of scientist would look over the to of their collective glasses and say, “Yup he’s screwed.” But apparently that’s not how god sees it. Oh well.
I am terribly glad for him and devastated for her.