4/16/07
What a day! I should never have gone to work today! What was I thinking? Now that I’m away from there I can’t bear to waste energy even thinking about it. I will blog about work another time when my spleen needs that particular type of venting. Urrrrrrrrrrrggggggggg!
HOWEVER:
I received this from one of my co-workers, J-Baby. She makes me laugh with her very creative, imaginative, and witty poetry. I was very, very touched . . . with her permission I will post it.
To My Friend: (That’s me)
Monday is here and you will be leaving soon,
But no matter where you are we'll still share the same moon.
For you and your sister I will continue to pray
That the Lord will strengthen her more each day.
Please believe me though things appear bad,
And it saddens my heart to see you so sad,
But God is able, and this you may not believe
I will never tell you anything that will deceive.
Days will come and days will go
You sister will get better, this I know.
Let God be your Rock, use His strength for your own,
Cause when you are very weak, God is really strong.
You are my friend, don't you ever doubt it,
And believe it or not, I’m not serious about it.
Sure I make jokes and pretend not to care,
But work won't be the same without you there.
Right now your sister needs you by her side,
And it's in your strength she will now abide.
It won't be easy to see her suffer so,
But remember you are tougher though.
Let her know you are there through thick or thin,
Keep reminding her that from this she will win.
And I too will keep you lifted up in prayer,
Although not in person, my heart will be there.
To my friend, I hold you deep in my spirit,
And each time you cry my spirit will hear it.
Be encouraged though things seem awful bleak,
YOU be strong when your sister is weak,
Remind her of better days that will be
And if you need comfort, please call me.
Your FRIEND,
Julia Robertson
(and Zaree)
Poetry is priceless! Someone once said that only music and poetry reach the ears of the gods. Thank you Julia! I’m gonna miss my daily dose of rhyming prose!
I’m gonna miss Shelly and Julia and Angela, and erm, ah my pens, and my plant at work that I’m sure some kind soul will want to water it once a week, and my walks and talks with Shelly, and my poetry from Julia and did I say walking and talking with Shelly, and reading Julia’s poetry and hearing about the antics of Zaree?
After work:
While waiting for Ryan at about 5:30 P.M. some guy in a window, under where I was parked, decided to air his short comings at me! My sympathy went out to him! Now I understand the saying, “Making mountains out of mole hills,” erm, ahh, ant mounds might have been more appropriate. Urrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggg!
Marie e-mailed me today. She still has a cough and now Mehmet has a cough and a fever! I told them to relax, to distress, to take it easy! I want them well and they go catch a cold! I can’t wait to go up there so we can RELAX together and get well and most importantly laugh. Someone once said laugher is the cure that heals the soul! It will be forced relaxation, and not so forced laughter, since I think I can make her laugh! We have a long and strange history with even stranger characters in our history! That should account for some good belly laughs!
“You vill relax, and you vill like it!”
“You vill laugh, and you vill laugh even more!”
I have the list that I wrote down when Mehmet called me on Sunday. The six steps to a clean bill of health:
1) Clean Lung test,
2) Clean “ink” test, (Rorschach inkblot test?? Damn shrinks get their hands on everyone!)
3) Clean lymph node culture,
4) Clean Ultra sound of everything,
5) Clean bone scan,
6) Clean blood test!
I know everything will all come out clean! I just wish my little sister did not have to go through all this! What I would negotiate to not have her endure any of this! Urrrrrrggggggggggg! The surgery is this Friday . . . four days away . . . I hope that this abnormality is just that, a little nothing, only an annoyance, and excised with surgery. Gone! I will keep my fingers crossed and my mind “thinking right thoughts!”
Marie will not be allowed to stay at the hospital overnight. I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. I guess there are more ways to get infections at hospitals, so I’m gonna think it’s a good thing, since hospitals are full of sick people and that’s not the place to be if you’re trying to get well. Isn’t it odd that sick people go to a place where there’s more sick people, they should go to spas where there’s “well” people! Send the ill to spas where they can get massages, facials, steam baths, colonics, organic and raw food, and I’m sure you’d get a better cure rate than sending them to drab industrialized institutions where they server food that is sure to keep the sick sick. Didn’t hey make a movie about hospital food called “Soylent Green?”
Since I have to except this reality, and not that I want to, I’m hoping it is a minor issue in all our lives. I want my sister to be able to talk about this disease and episode in her life like Shelly at work does: something that happened a long, long time ago, something that was overcome, and something that she will be able to relate to other people that may need her guidance and reassurance in future. I’m doing the “mind talking to the universe” thing over this one! And, funny the universe is talking back . . . or is that that someone’s medication I took by mistake?
Stupid details:
My little tiny blue rolly bag is packed. Two pairs of jeans, 10 T-shirts, 6 pairs of socks, 20 undies, a can of organically grown, fair trade coffee, a bag of oat muffin mix with dates, a pair of Catherine Hepburn PJs, and I’m taking my camera, my anatomy book, two works of fiction (pleasure reading), though I’m sure I’ll find very interesting reading at Marie and Mehmet’s (M&M) house. I say if you have to be addicted to anything, it’s best to have an addiction to literature.
Before I sign off I’m going to write about the Marie incident. When Marie was five years old, in kindergarten, and I was 11 years old in sixth grade, I was playing “Double Dutch” with my friends. I was skipping, trying to beat my best of 800 skips Marie was near the wall of the school where the kids played hand ball. I was at the far east end away from the school facing the street. I was jumping, doing my hyper kinetic thing (I don’t think that any one of us three kids ever sat still back then), when all of the sudden I started crying. Tears just pored out of me. I felt this horrible anxiety and the only thought was to find Marie. I ran toward the wall looking for Marie. She, too, was in tears. She had been hit by hard hand ball on the head. I grabbed her and I ran home with her (which was just around the corner). I couldn’t stop crying all the way home. Later, I told my mom about it and she said, “When you love someone you share in their pain and in their joy.”
