 ©1999-1999 ICFTP What're you, kidding? |
24 March 1999:
Ok, got my lukewarm coffee, some Cowboy Junkies on the stereo, everybody's left the office, I closed down all my IM windows (except Mark - he's busy playing with his newly re-discovered Tamogatchi) and I'm ready to write this stuff down. Watch me now, here I go.
Got back from Birmingham about 4:30 this afternoon. The doc's appointment wasn't as dreadful as I'd... dreaded.
I left town in a great mood yesterday. I don't know whether it was simply getting out on the road again, or something to do with facing my demons, or what, but it felt good and I'm not complaining. Spent the night at Heather's with Tanya. Went out and had sushi at Sakura in Southside. Not bad, good fried squid. Nice and chewy. It was a pleasant night, and I cleverly avoided getting shitfaced again, so I felt pretty good when I woke up the next morning... which was good, since the appointment was at 8am. Eek.
Met with Dr. Salzman and took another step towards this transplant. Looks like it'll be happening in the middle of June. I could've done it in April, but that's just too soon for me, and Dr. Salzman wouldn't be my primary doctor if I went in May. I like her, redheaded tough chick from New Orleans. Also had to make sure my target date meshes with brother Neal's soccer schedule.
Tanya went with me. What would I do without her? She is amazing, helping me by keeping a clear head and keeping track of all the little details that must be dealt with, but that I have trouble keeping my mind on. I'm not the most organized person in the world. She, however, took detailed notes while I talked with Dr. Salzman, occasionally interjecting intelligent questions. We met with one of the clinic's social workers, a woman my age named Jennifer, to talk about how to get money to pay for all of this. I have been just as terrified about this aspect of the treatment as I have been of the physical ordeal. She was excellent, calm and competent. I did not realize that I may be eligible for assistance from various leukemia funds out there. Reassuring.
You know what was the coolest moment today? Dr. Salzman asked me what to do if circumstances arose where I had to be put on life support with no hope of recovery... if I could no longer live without the benefit of machinery. I don't know why this was so exciting. Maybe it's morbid. I don't think so, though. I think it's just that it's one of the true frontiers, where no one knows what will happen. Death is an absolutely brand new experience for every one of us, the one ride we're guaranteed. For me, this was also a little slice of total control of my own fate, something we rarely get to truly experience. That decision is my decision, and absolutely no one else's. It was thrilling to make the commitment, to say without pause, "If that happens, pull the plug."
But meanwhile, at the risk of being cheesy, I GOT THIS PART DONE, DAMMIT! I'm looking forward to tomorrow, and right now I'm off to go hug my friends and sit next to Siddhary on the couch and listen to Rob play guitar and talk to Christy about this whole thing and pet a whole bunch of kittens. Mrow!
25 March 1999:
Let's talk about... milkshakes. Their creamy goodness. The cool, soothing feel of ice cream slipping down your throat. The way a silk stocking looks halfway up the cup. The almost intolerable pleasure of pouring liquid ice cream on your hot, inflamed
wait a minute. What the hell am I talking about? If my banana split reads this, I'm history. I've gotta get out of here -
Did you hear something?