Friday, August 22, 2003

Last night I soaked off the "steri-strips' used to hold the incision together. Now I can take a shower without duck tape. YAY layin in bed, itchey, pulled on something, was some suture! OMG, did I just open something up? Whew, nope, it is okay. Suture looks like fishing line.

I had to go to work this morning, it was neccessary, I got what I needed done. Nailed! a big WIN! yay. Then, to make it better, Larissa 'IM'd' me that she was released form the hospital, is feeling better, and on her way to Mex for a week vacation. Ah, youth. (IM = AOL Instant Messenger, cool communicaiton medium at work)

The nurse from Dr. Colburn phoned me, we chatted for a bit, and got setup for Monday's appointment. She has a nice phone presence, and seemed to really care. that, form my point, is a BIG STINKING HUGE PLUS! Oddly, my main question for Monday is not "what do we do with radiation" it is more "so, why won't the medical (chemo) guy see me till NEXT monday, can you pull strings? do you know someone better?" I am impatient.

But I bonked early, ran out of all energy, and was home by 2. I had nothing left. I napped. It wasn't really a POWER nap, just layin around, wondering what the heck is going on, drifting in and out, till I got a little energy up. How did I expend this energy? Sorting through my clothes, getting together for a run to goodwill. Did I really wear this in 1985? Why in the HECK do I have 28" waist pants? I can barely fit a 34" now? Do I REALLY need those worn army BDUs?

I sorted, I looked, I culled, I TRIED to get RID of clothes. the pile is not as large as it should be. But I am trying. Then? bonk again. Nap. this time longer. Got up, answered the phone. I do not know how to express how sorry I am when people call, and I just am wore out. I got nothing to say, I am wore OUT. and I feel bad. People call because they care. and I am mumbling, and drooling, and cannot articulate.

Why am I so dang tired? I have the energy to get up and go to work, but why does social interaction just put me away?

Okay, back on track. Sara comes home, we talk, we decide to go out. Yes, I need to take her on a date. I do not want her to forget how important she is to me. How special. How nice, a date. A movie. She picks out a movie. No, no action. it does NOT have the THREE KEY COMPONENTS to a good movie: Car chases, explosions and boobs. Sara always picks 'art' movies that play at the 'art movie house'.

I love her, really, truly, with all my heart. But I really want to sit in a chair for an hour and a half, and see some formula crap that does not stimulate or make me think. Bring on the Guns, Knives, Firetrucks and Whooo-ers!

Nope. Art flick.

Now don't get me wrong, some of the art flicks she has dragged me to have turned out to be pretty darn good films. and I have even liked some of them. And sitting in a dark room holding her hand, man, that is nice..... Couldn't there be just ONE car chase?

We saw American Splendor. Described to me as "some guy from Cleveland makes a comic book about himself and gets famous" Okay. Comic books! I know that. Car chases, Ka-POW! boobies sometimes.....

The name rings a bell. My pal Christopher Null, the WORLD FAMOUS movie critic (whose web site is currently unreachable) this is the guy Harry Knowles WISHES he was,....... Anyhow, Chris mentioned something aobut this in a past email about my blogger and cancer. But as usual, I paid no attention to the harbinger of culture....

We go to the NEW Pruneyard Camera Cinema! Yuppie Heaven, next to the Microbrewery, in the shcmancy shopping center, sits an art movie house. New, Modern, full of smelly art movie junkies. hello, guess what? I am wearing Lounge Pants in Public, I know, I have FUCKING NUT SACK CANCER! But at least mine are BIG. Oversize. These folks are wearing TIGHT lounge pants. EEEK!

I do not need to see that guys "junk" and her cameltoe is scareing the crap out of me. (if you do not know the toe) We make it past the pony-tailed, unwashed masses, and asian guys on cell phones, into the theater, grab a seat, and WOO HOO! Previews!

LOVE the previews. Like little movies. quick little snippets of adventure. woot!

Then the flick. American Splendor, a movie about Harvey Pekar, this angry guy from Cleveland who convinces his pal to write a comic book about his life. the life of the ordinary man.

Okay, this is alright. No boobs, no car chases, but an okay story.

and I am having a damned hard time sitting still in the theater. It is too long in one position. My abdominal scar is hurting. Then, the bomb drops.

He has Cancer!

He writes a comic book about it

He documents it

He has stolen MY thunder. He has done what I am doing. He has described what happened, in comic book form

uhhh, damn.

they briefly glaze over the chemo, and move on to how great his life turns out, end of film.

And I am thinking "comic book form, maybe I am internet form?"
and also thinking "my guts hurt, I need to be horizontal"

and thinking "woo hoo! and I got a MUCh cuter gal with me!"

we go home. I lay flat. I read some email. I write this. I am about to go lay in bed.

this still feels really therapuetic and good for me, so I am gonna keep on writing, even if it has been done, in comic book form.

Tomorrow, I may need to go see Tomb Raider or Charlie's Angels, ya know, to make up the car chases.....

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