The woman with a spigot on her back

I imagine myself as a surrealist painting. I’m sitting on a table partially clad with my back to the audience. And on my back is a small spigot protruding from my left lung.

A week before my brave friend Pam died of breast cancer, she said “this is so surreal.” I knew what she meant. With all the advances in science, we are still given a death sentence when both of us had spent our lives doing healthy things.

I’m feeling a little sorry for myself today, so I even ate a small McDonalds hamburger and a small fry. I felt like I was in a time machine bc in Burlington, NC my family used to go to McDonalds on Friday nights when the chain first opened (if we weren’t at Zac’s hotdogs). I would also often get a chocolate milkshake which I’d promptly spill in the foot of the backseat. I skipped the milkshake this time, but the food comforted me and made me feel young and healthy (haha) before old age and cancer set in.

Today was my duty-bound day for Sarah Cannon as an exchange for being on clincal trial for free. They make appts for an extensive echocardiogram and two eye appts every 4 weeks. Small price to pay. I get my eyes dilated twice so good thing hotel close. Tomorrow is my infusion.

When tech did my echocardiogram she said there was fluid on my left side. I had been short of breath even going up stairs or doing simple tasks. And my chest is as tight as it was when my lungs were drained Nov. 3. It’s only been a month and they’re filling again, so i’m having a pity party. Yesterday when i got to the hotel I was so tired i could barely move. I keep thinking/hoping I’ll get better, but it feels like a slow decline.

And I’ll probably be putting my poor dog to sleep on Wednesday. She has a bleeding mouth tumor and like me is not getting better. Dark humor here but I begin to wonder when it will be my time to be put to sleep. Loss taps into loss (a little spigot humor-taps?) Both patents have died during the past 4 years i’ve had cancer too. Merciful deaths but still hard and sad.

According to Hilary Mantel, during the Spanish inquisition “heretics“ had their heads and eyebrows shaved and were forced to march down the streets wearing white robes. It was to make them appear invisible. Maybe that’s what is happening to me as I fade away. I’ve always been kind of a heretic. I think of that when i look in the mirror and a bald head and eyebrow-less face stare back. Honestly, I look like a little old man.

So like I said, pity party.

On the plus side, my eyes are so dilated right now that they look like dark blueberries. And it’s snowing lightly in Nashville. Pretty.