Three years to the day a trip to the ER saved my life. And I’m still here. Without energy to write anything, but here I is.
I kind of miss my old blog. Work. Weirdos. Life. Love. Nothingness. Pain and Hope. It hurts to read some of it. Especially on days that I feel like cacapoopoo. Reading October 2005 makes me cry and laugh. The greatest of emotions. The ache of those words. That time.
Three years to the day, my friend’s twin girls were born. I don’t know why, but at the time it felt reassuring. Life. Beautiful perfect little girls. Little twin angels. Then I met you and you and you. All my internets.
I took cough syrup and it made my nose run while I was coughing up my entire spleen.
I didn’t feel like eating whatsoever. I had Sixbucks.
I was online way too much. Dude city.
I have a new penpal overseas. I be prayin for the dude. He thinks I’m cute.
Talked to another dude tonight. He sent me some pictures which were oddly wonderful because they were artistic and he’s beautiful. Funny, he was pretty cool. You think that a man that gorgeous would be so full of himself, but he was amazingly insightful and thoughtful. He is one of those people that you hope to know your whole life.
Got called a pussy by this stuck-up Republican dude because he has rheumatoid arthritis and doesn’t take pain meds. I told him to go fuck himself. With the appropriate punctuation.
I got 9234823098 text messages from a secret agent. No really, he’s some kind of spy or something.
I got 2 text messages from Tim. Oddly familiar and sweet.
And I met a San Antonio Tim who took Zoe and me out to eat sushi. He’s a rare true Southern gentleman and he got Zoe’s shoe off the roof.
Zoe read her book. It’s cute when she can’t read a word and she spells it. I half hear her and she has to repeat it several times before I can figure it out. I’m a site reader. She brings home like six library books every day. Bookmarks in all of them. Like mother like daughter.
I prayed. I prayed a lot today.
Bren/Cody’s Mom reminded me of Yatzee. We used to call it Snotzee and it’s too gross of a story. Even for me.
Every time I get a headache, and I think it can’t get any worse, it does.
Zoe is bright and lovely. A bright shining star. Showing me the way. Just when I think I couldn’t possibly love that child any more, I do. I just do.
Thank you God for my three extra years. I pray for more, but I’ll take what I can get right about now.
I think Nico is dying. I’m the last one now. The last one of 25. How does that make sense?
Pray like hell. I miss all of them. So many nameless familiar MD Anderson faces. All gone. And Brenda. And Sarah and Nikki, and Clem and Paula and Ashley and Victoria and Liza and Robbi and Robin and Pam and Cookie and Joan, and sweet Kadin and Eric and Laiken and Steven, and S’s Gayle, Nick Harriet and Joseph, and there are so many I begin to forget and then I remember and remember and remember and then Zoe.
I can do this. I just can.
Your assignment today is to listen to music and just dance around. Thank you Sisters for my iPod. It is my memory and my joy. It makes me cry and laugh at the same time. It just does.