Twenty things to do when you’re waiting for another goddamn biopsy.

My favorite sister made me laugh by sending me entire box of breast-cancer-fighting chocolate covered strawberries before another goddamned biopsy.

 

1. When husband asks you whether the dishwasher is clean or dirty, start crying.
2. Color in pictures in your journal with markers even though the colors bleed through to other side. Hum.
3. Eat corn chips right out of the cupboard.
4. get mad at your kids for no reason, then say, “You’ll be sorry when I’m in my BOX” until they roll their eyes.
5. Call the doctor and cry and beg for some extra pain meds. Because you’re scared.
6. Google every horrible article you can find that shows pictures of the procedure.
7. Eat more corn chips straight out of the cupboard.
8. Do your work. Forget it. Do five minutes. Stop. Try again. Stop.
9. Pick up the book for your next reading group. Realize that it’s “The End of Your Life Bookclub.” Do not really want to read a book about a mother and son who are reading books while she’s dying of cancer and getting chemo at Sloan-Kettering. Put it down.
10. Watch part of movie about Brad Pitt playing Liberace’s boyfriend. Stop when I begin to realize that a. I am never going to fulfill my dream of being Liberace’s boyfriend; and b. Being Liberace’s boyfriend isn’t All That anyway. I want to scream at the screen: “Run, Liberace’s boyfriend! You know about those famous people! They’ll eat you up like a chicken leg, suck out the marrow, and toss you aside!” I mean, I have watched enough biopics to learn a FEW lessons about life.
11. Make a to do list. Actually more of a wishlist. Wouldn’t it be nice if I actually did do any of those things.
12. Sort socks. Have 25 percent success rate.
13. Write blog posts I may never use.
14. Look at dishes in kitchen sink. They look perfectly content. Do nothing about them.
15. Read productivity tips so I can think of even more things I’m not currently doing. Like Vlogging. Why have I forgotten to Vlog? Go into shame spiral.
16. Try to understand Evernote. Cannot figure out how to get notes into the proper notebooks.
17. Think about making bed. It’s supposed to be a very good habit.
18. Think about how it will take “at least a week” to get results. Feel mad.
19. Look at clock. How many more hours till it starts? How long till its over?
20. Write in my journal 10 things I feel grateful about. And feel happy that they’re all about people I love.

Writing Prompt: How do you cope when you’re waiting for an unpleasant or scary medical procedure? Any tips for other people?

 

 

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July is Journaling Month(Part 17): How to Find Your Journal Part 7

January 12, 1975

January 12, 1975: Last night we went to the Open Dorm at East Hall to see Leppie. We were all frustrated, so we all ran out in the snow in our socks and threw snowballs and screamed and had sock fights. It was great. Then we went inside and Joan played the piano and then we went up to Leppie’s room and Leppie and I talked about a lot of things that of things that of course both of us understood, like growing up. But he needed to know that I was old enough to understand what growing up is. Then Joan and Cari Hemenway came in and we all talked for a while, and I went down into the lounge to look at books and think. D. came into the room shouting, “Noumenon! Noumenon!” He sand sat down at the piano, and between every chord, he shouted, “Noumenon.” He stopped and said “How are you,” I said, “Oh, fine.” Then he came over and showed me his new play called “Noumenon.” Gee. We talked about him being a Broadway oriented person and my grandparents. His play is about a character in a novel that was 10 days old and walked out of the novel and didn’t like the real world so he committed suicide. He said I have become more civilized lately. THAT was quite unnecessary!

Prompt: Do YOU like the real world?? And what does Noumenon mean, anyway?