the end and the beginning….
Hi. Went in to work today for a bit. It helped to knock off a few little assignments that were haunting me. It’s hard. I’m not sure how I fit in there and I think vice versa. But everyone is kind. I just wish everything didn’t feel quite so hard.
We saw the Gates for real this weekend. They remind me of monks, walking through the park. Especially when the wind blows, it’s like their robes are blowing, all solemn yet festive. It’s nice. And all the people, tons and tons of people. Went up to the Met’s roof, which they had open special. Cool to see the park from high, trailed through with orange.
Did some research tonight at this guy’s site: lymphomasurvival.com. Most helpful stuff I’ve found so far––bought his articles and there’s great stuff on some management techniques for the long term of this. Certainly more than my doctor offered. But it’s still scary, survival rates, recurrence stuff, etc.
Anyway, much tumult, I’m drenched in the emotion of all this, not to mention the continued hot flashes, bone pain, and have I mentioned the tiredness? Oy, kvetch, kvetch. This is maybe the hardest part, except that it’s all the hardest part. The Oscars, though, are maybe the hardest, hardest part: Penelope and Salma? What were they thinking? Was that actually salsa music in the background? And Hillary’s scary dress? Drew’s old-lady look? And Antonio? Where’s Bjork when you need her? Sigh.
But my friends who I watched with got engaged yesterday. In the park, amidst the Gates. That’s heartening. Puppy faith in love. Or bravery in the face of cynicism. Or denial. Whatever it is, it’s kind of lovely to be near such big promises of good things.
‘Nite.
