I have finally been hit with the flu. I'm grateful for my circumstances because:
1) I have a warm couch on which to convalesce.
2) I work at home, so I can convalesce on said couch.
3) I have Adam and the dogs to keep me company and make me laugh.
I'd like to feel better, but in the meantime, I'm happy with what I've got.
My father-in-law has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Last weekend we went down to Southern California for his surgery. He underwent something called the Whipple Procedure, which is damn invasive but may well also save his life.
It's all happened so fast. That seems to be the case with that son of a bitch we call cancer. Adam's handling it as best as he can, which is to say he's being pretty quiet and fairly stoic about it, while at the same time being as supportive as he can be. It's truly sad to me because his father is the member of his family I feel closest to. We don't talk on the phone or really exchange emails or anything like that, but he's just a very human and open-hearted person.
I made the mistake of looking up odds and survival rates while I was sleepless in the LA hotel room. Bad idea. I wound up bawling and waking Adam up, which sucked because I felt so damn selfish. He needed his sleep. But his dad leaves the hospital tomorrow and we'll see what happens from there. We'll see.
I would teach them to love animals. Not so much teach as share the love of animals.
I would encourage them to have a sense of humor. Dirty words would be okay, actually. They were in my house and I didn't turn out that badly.
I would make them listen to '80s music just to torture them.
I would slip them a sip of beer now and again.
I would love the shit out of them.
I'm a writer and storyteller in Berkeley, CA. If you're wondering where that is, follow the smell of patchouli and skunkweed. There you'll find me with my kickass husband, gorgeous little boy, and manic Lab-Australian Shepherd mix pups. I'm represented by Miriam Altshuler of DeFiore & Co., but of course, my views are my own.