10 February 2012

metaphorically speaking . . . a snorkel

February 9, 2012

You go to a new restaurant. Order the fish. On the way home, you are already feeling sick. Before getting into bed that night, you strategically situate a bailing pail. Just in case. In the morning it’s worse and stays that way for the rest of the day. You can only nibble and sip all day. Because, God forbid . . . well, you can’t even talk about it or you might . . . oh god

Dinner time rolls around. You go back to the same restaurant. Order the fish. On the way home, you are already feeling sick. Before getting into bed that night, you strategically situate a bailing pail. Just in case. In the morning it’s worse and stays that way for the rest of the day. You can only nibble and sip all day. Because, God forbid . . . well, you can’t even talk about it or you might . . . oh god

You do this three more nights in a row. But why? There’s a gun to your back. Your consolation? Fish is supposed to be good for you. Well, in that case, you’ll go back to the restaurant again next month.


February 10, 2012

The scratch at the back of your throat after a week of coughing except running through your bloodstream. Shimmying a barky tree with bare knees except running through your bloodstream. The gas and oil combustion of a rusted chainsaw except running through your bloodstream. The unknowing submersion of your snorkel in the ocean except running through your bloodstream. The hypodermic itch you cannot relieve with the fiercest of claws except running through your bloodstream. The unfinished wine from the flute turned ashtray at last night’s party except running through your blood stream. The palpable sensation of chemo running through your bloodstream.

6 comments:

  1. Sigh... the pain of a friend suffering more deeply than you ever have and much more than you could ever wish on an enemy except running through your bloodstream. Sending love. Heal quickly.

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  2. Amy, as ever, your kind words are a comfort. And I'm healing my damnedest over here, be sure of that. Quickly, I'm told is not an option. Barring a miracle which would unfortunately put an end to this delightful blog.

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  3. I'd be willing to make the sacrifice. I would, of course, then expect a miraculous healing blog. Or a holy shit I just kicked a tumor's ass blog. Dealer's choice.

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  4. Traci, that is, however, a pretty accurate emoticon of my actual face trying not to lose my lunch. Don't worry, a :) will do.

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  5. Amy, I'd probably just go back to my other blog and play it off all cool. Maybe mention my fortune 30 times or so. bUt other than, that. . . all cool.

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