A Persistent Query

By -
I've been mulling over the advice I got awhile back, which involved laughing a lot and making sure I keep a positive attitude. I have only one response.

How the hell am I supposed to laugh my way to a cure when every time I laugh I pee myself? Maybe another t-shirt is in order? Pee for the cure? Cancer pales in contrast to my urinary incontinence?

Shit. I mean, piss.

Comments

Eliza Brock said…
Dude! You changed the background! Like it.
June 19, 2008 at 6:44 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Hammers and Villages

By -
I want to be concise and brief, but it won't turn out that way. Also, I won't post a photo of me in my briefs. That, I will spare you. The details, I will not. They will be long, drawn out, horrifying but funny, and potentially nauseating. Yesterday was one of my hardest emotionally. We dropped the girls at Janalee's (she's a brilliant, creative friend who creates the funniest , realistic, "life as it really is in the trenches of motherhood" cards: check them out--I've probably sent a few e-cards to each of you at one time or another: www.motherhoodwithattitude.com (What's not to love about a company with a name like that?) She lives about two steps from Rose Medical Center, which is where our treatments are, and has offered me the bed in her basement closet anytime. She's such a doll. She also facilitated a lemonade stand, in the rain, with six little girls in princess dresses (Katie, excluded of course, who, at eight, is too old for dress-up, u...
Read more

Miracles

By -
Whenever I find my mind going to “chronic disease” or putting some arbitrary time limit on my life, almost automatically, without real intention—what could almost be called a default—either I whisper or am whispered to, “Except for the miracle.” I’m a hold out for a miracle. Whether this is faith or foolish hope will invariably be proven in time. Whether this is faith in miracle by way of a wicked cocktail of cytotoxic drugs, a willfulness to keep laughing, the drive to continue the tedious, holy work of bringing presence to the mundane of the everyday, or something else out of my hands altogether, I don’t know. What I do know is this: cancer hasn’t made facing the everyday challenges I always have struggled with easier: the challenge to engage my children remains, the hard work of corralling my rogue thoughts out of the ruts of neurosis persists, the pursuit of being present and intentionally living in the daily, the tedium, continues. It hasn’t made it easier, but it has made it more...
Read more

Fear

By -
I woke up this morning to a back full of knots, cranky as hell, and ready to rip off anyone's head who came too close. And.....he did. Poor man. Bill, I think he may need to go out for that beer with you. I didn't sleep well at all, Eliza being fussy and needing too much reassurance to give me more than a few consecutive hours of already-restless, angst-laden, tossing-turning half sleep. The coffee didn't even satisfy, the taste falling flat in my mouth. Normally, I need coffee like an addict needs heroine, but the only thing I could taste this morning was bitterness at meaningless platitudes flung out of other's selfish needs for their own validation and disregard for what might actually help me. In the midst of a fair amount of reasonable terror, by anyone's standards, trite phrases that attempt to put a mere band-aid on my gushing wound do little more than exacerbate the fear. To be fair, there have been precious few flung out, and particularly not from anyone wh...
Read more