My Name is Mommy

Worst Mother Ever, Part 55

So, first off, I am procrastinating on writing a paper for a class. Bad me.

Second of all, I let Ave watch The Walking Dead with me tonight.  The thing is, she doesn't get scared by stuff like that.  I mean, I was like 12 when I saw Nightmare on Elm Street and my friend and I stayed up til daylight because we were too scared to sleep.  Ave got really sad and teary-eyed, though, when the zombies ate the horse and then she was all mad at the main character dude for letting the horse get eaten.  Then we tried to look up the horse on the internet because I think he must be a famous actor-horse, you know, and hey, maybe he's been in some other flicks where he didn't get eaten.  I'm pretty sure I saw him in True Grit(the new version) so he's probably rolling in the oats and all- though I think I wouldn't let Ave see that movie just yet.

Anyhow, it was just funny with all the brains and blood and gore, the thing Ave got upset about was that the guy let the zombies eat the horse.  It's not like there wasn't massive foreshadowing there or anything, either, geez.

Anyhow, back to this paper I'm writing and all.  It finally hit me how different the ideas of practicing medicine and public health actually are.  I won't expound because it will be fearfully boring but let's just say I fall on the public health side of things.

And, of course, as I waited for Ave at Barnes & Noble while she had chorus rehearsal, the news of the death of Steve Jobs was on every cover of every magazine.  It is an interesting thing.  Never met the guy personally but he has, of course, had a profound impact on my life.  I won't throw down on either side of the 'was Jobs too Great to be Good' argument since I like to judge people personally and unfortunately I will never have that chance.   I will agree with the idea that people with high ideals and high standards can be difficult to be around.  He did get several great gifts.  One was that even though he died so young, look at what he was able to accomplish and what he set in motion.  Another is that he knew that he was going to die in a very material way that most people don't grasp and what an opportunity!  What a gift!  The thing is, we can all have it, too, if we are willing to open our eyes to it and force ourselves to deal with it.  I think most people don't because they don't have to and it is just easier not to and alot of us, myself included, transfer it to others- kids, friends, spouses, lovers, whatever.  I think when you really get down to the business of the fact that these bodies here are just loaners and quite fragile at that, I like what Mr. Jobs had to say at Stanford's 2005 commencement address: "Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life.

Soon is just a relative term.  I don't know, maybe the guy was a tool in person, maybe he was fantastic- either way, I think he did make a ding in our universe.  So here's to him for at least making a difference.

And now, back to my paper....?

September is over and we lived.

I've been going in for weekly iron infusions again.  I got off-track this summer.  I thought maybe I could push on through.  Well, my labs say otherwise and I'd like to say I've learned my lesson but I've never been the most compliant of patients.  I just wish I didn't feel so... crappy.

I try to keep a good attitude about going in to the infusion center, like, "Hey look, I get to hang out with all the people dying of cancer and I could have it so much worse!"  On my bad attitude days, I sort of feel more like "Hey, either they get better or they don't- they aren't on an eternal merry-go-round of getting blood drawn, visiting the hematologist and then getting iron that makes me feel like crap for two or three days.

Depression.  I don't know if it is a side effect of my jaw-droppingly low hematocrit or hanging out with cancer patients or just being exhausted from being sick from iron infusions and tired from having a low count.  I don't even know if I'm depressed, it just seems like I shouldn't want to hide away like this and sleep all the time.

Oh, I force myself to do stuff.  I'm taking two classes at Harvard, coaching two soccer teams, leading a Brownie Troop, writing book reviews, driving Ave to Berkeley twice a week for Girls Chorusn and Vi to SF once a week for acting class at A.C.T..  Last week I dropped Ave off at Girls Chorus and then spent the next hour or so hugging the toilet in the El Cerrito Barnes and Noble.  I'm glad they are still in business.

On a brighter point, Ave and I found a lovely little flower shop in Berkeley and bought some flowers which we picked out stem by stem.  I think the bouquet turned out quite lovely, don't you?

So there is the silver lining, getting to hold my daughter's hand and pick out beautiful flowers- because I'm here, however much moments here and there suck, I'm here.  I wouldn't be anywhere else because I'm pretty sure I've never seen prettier flowers than I did that evening.

And then we went to Blick's and they had a sale so I bought Ave a couple small sketchbooks of many lb paper and a set of pencils of all different hardness, some various erasers and some charcoal.  I'm a horrible artist.  I mean, terrible.  If I hadn't taken compulsory drawing and painting classes at my liberal arts high school I probably would have graduated with a 4.0.  But we sat together later and I started to show her how you can rub the pencil, shade, erase and I got the priviledge of watching her world transform from one of line drawings to one of space and light and dimension.  No, I really can't think of any other life I'd rather be leading than this one.

Winston Churchill was quite the one for words, tonight I like this: "We shall draw from the heart of suffering itself the means of inspiration and survival."  

And Saturday, I took Viola to her first acting class up in San Francisco at A.C.T..  Sure, we could do something here, local.  We could pay $$ for StarrFu****, but hell, if we're going to live so close to a city like San Francisco- why not take advantage of all the culture and opportunity it offers?  She was lit up like a child is the night before Christmas when she came out.  That was fabulous to see.

So there, I have already cheered myself up.  I cannot believe that October is here again already.  I'm still here.  This sometimes very tired heart still beats and hopes and plans- so many hopes and plans.  It is easy to forget how lucky I am, right here and now.

The art of being happy lies in the power of extracting happiness from common things.— Henry Ward Beecher

Be like the flower, turn your faces to the sun.

- Kahlil Gibran