I’ll start with the stuff that isn’t quite so great. But that’s just so that I can get to the exciting stuff. We just switched chemo. The medicine we were on was not doing enough. The fact that the side effects were very light was nice, but unfortunately nice doesn’t cut it when you’re dealing with cancer.
We don’t need nice. We need nasty, tough, Ray Lewis style chemo. We need the Sayeret Matkal (elite Israeli commando unit known for kicking A**,) not the jobniks. This cancer is proving to be very tough, so we need to be even tougher.
So the chemo days will be longer and not quite as pleasant (Erica, we miss you but don’t come back!)
Now I’ll throw a little truth into my tone because I know the “rah rah, we’re gonna win!” attitude can come across as believable as a 50’s propaganda film.
I’m worried, and scared, and mad.
While Stella handles herself with grace and dignity all the time, I do not. Nor do I intend to. Catch me at the wrong time, and you might want to steer clear. Nothing personal. I like you. Really. I can sneer at some of my closest friends.
And you might think everything is fine because most of the time I can schmooze, and joke, and run, and fake being normal pretty darn well if I do say so myself. But beneath the mask I wear I am burning with anger. I wish I could be angry at someone because that’s easy. Or if anyone knew why Stella got sick I could get mad at that. But it doesn’t work that way.
Should I be mad at G-d?
Maybe, but that just doesn’t feel right. Worthy of perhaps a few books, but that’s for the Rabbis to write. No, I can’t really explain but getting mad at G-d just doesn’t do it for me.
I’m furious because the person I love is under attack, and I have nothing besides the concept of cancer to get mad at.
And when everyone sees Stella smiling and being her charming self, it’s hard to explain why I am standing by the water tower early in the morning screaming my head off.
The dog understands, but that’s about it.
But don’t worry. I keep the mask close by and can usually flip it on whenever you come close.
(Hint — if the earbuds are in, and you can hear the music playing loudly, please keep your distance.)
Is this is a good way of dealing with the situation? Dunno. I’m kinda making it up as we go.
O.K., you can relax. That was the therapy part of today’s post. Now to the fun part.
Fu** Off Cancer
We’re going to Disney World!
Of course this was Stella’s call. And despite the fact that she claims she really wants to go to Disney for herself, we know the truth. She wants our kids and nephew and nieces to go to Disney and have a blast. Stella’s enjoyment comes from seeing others enjoying themselves.
So in two weeks, it’s back to America. This time I’ll be riding in coach with the kids while we let Queen Stella ride up in First Class where the pilot gives passengers foot massages.
And then it’s Mickey time for all of us. And our families will both join us. Having our families in one of the world’s best “fun” centers is exactly what we all need.
All of us have been on the cancer roller coaster long enough.
It’s time for a real roller coaster where the screams are just for fun .