Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Good news & bad news
That's a picture of dinner last night. Yummm... I had just finished making vegetable soup and I looked at it and completely didn't feel like eating it. It wasn't even that hot, it just wasn't a "soupy" kind of night. It was a "fruity" night. Maybe because we'd had a heavy-ish lunch downtown earlier in the day -- it was a celebratory lunch. Yesterday was Jim's two-year-cancer-free-iversary. Yay! It was the biannual trip to the oncologist to get test results, which continue well, but to be honest, no trip to the oncologist is really a nice thing. No matter how good of news one gets, there are all those other people waiting in the waiting room, young and old, and it's a glimpse into a world we seldom see, if we're lucky. It's still surreal to me, walking through a door that says "oncology" on it. The first time, I almost had a panic attack. It would have been my first. I'm not a panicker, but I started to breathe weird and felt this hysteria welling up in me. Now... it's still freaky, and then after the good news, still sad for the other people.
I will also always remember when Jim came home after his surgery and we had rented some videos and set him up on the couch to relax and watch The Office -- the British version. Words of wisdom: do not rent comedy for people fresh out of abdominal surgery! Laughter is not always the best medicine! He had to keep trying to laugh without moving his abdominal muscles, and it was the funniest sounding thing! (We are still big Office fans, US version, too. Dwight Shrute is one of my favorite characters on TV. Love him!)
On a sad note, though, it looks like the coyotes have gotten another of my mother's cats, this time the baby, Zucca (Pumpkin) who just celebrated his first birthday, party and all. Because my parents live on the edge of the wilds of Forest Park, the cats are only allowed out very sparingly, in daylight, and closely watched. But Zucca is a mad little hunter and he busted through a screen and got out... and he hasn't come back. There is already an engraved stone at the edge of the garden for "Our Old Warrior," my mom's eighteen-year-old tomcat Pesca who got grabbed by something in broad daylight when they first moved to Oregon. My mom is beginning to hate her beautiful house and its invisibly circling gang of horrible coyotes, which she has never gotten so much of a glimpse of. I still have a teeny tiny hope that little Zucca might come back, but you know how it goes.
Posted by Laini Taylor at 11:50 PM