Here is something you might not know. After cancer, while you're having some sort of teeny tiny random pain connected to God knows what, somebody will come up to you and tell a story-or maybe even two or seven-that includes the word 'metastasize' and you're going to be spending the next few minutes forcing your head to disconnect your thing from theirs.
It's like head aerobics. Not for the weak.
We were in the ED and The Attending comes in-P explains to me that's what his title is-and I don't know what I was thinking but I was all,"So, can I go back to work tomorrow?". And he said, Probably yes.
So, another cancer thing is the sweet mystery of the people you contact in an emergency. You have this new sort of interpersonal relationship with-of all people-your employer. Not the person you REALLY want to be sharing with, right?
That's your second phone call.
Anyway, one of my employers-I have several-after she sent me healing vibes-she suggested I take a day or two off. I was like, oh that won't be necessary. I'll be there. Dammit.
It took me maybe overnight, but it finally occurred to me that her thinking was far superior to mine. I think I had it in my head that if I just kept slamming(staying too busy/working my ass off/appointments-appointments-appointments/running running running)-everything was gonna be okay. When-in fact-that version of 'okay' is long gone.
When I was able to make that connection? I actually kinda started feeling a little bit better.
I got my hair cut. The stylist told me three or possibly ninety two metastasizing cancer stories. I can't say for sure because I wasn't listening.