Re-post on Cancer from January 2007

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Cancer

So what does a girl do when she finds out that her husband has the big C? I guess if he was just any ole run of the mill husband it would be easy. After all any Southern female from a halfway nice family has been thoroughly trained on taking care of our menfolk.

But I felt like I needed to stretch my cultural boundaries and marry a man from God only knows how to get that close to Canada without wearing a Mountie get-up and spatting out "Ya Betcha" and still be from the United States of America. He is an alien. Even his cancer is out of the ordinary.

My husband is not the type who wants me to "baby him" or be the strong heart he can lean on. No he wants to go live in the woods with a Malamute to heal. I guess he is gonna kill what he eats and wash his clothes with a rock. He doesn't shine up much to people in general so he won't miss that social aspect of life, after all he will have his furry canine companion.

Hmmmm, perplexing as this is to my sensibilities I am sure that in some way the return to nature is a healing process. (For myself, a return to the Jimmy Choo store on the upper east side would be very healing) So life's journey takes another unexpected turn and gives the opportunity to build some character. As if I haven't had enough of that in the past 6 years of living in Minnesota Weather. Really, just the winter footwear alone is enough to push a Southern girl right slap through the doors and on into The Sanctuary of St. Prada Mental Health Rest Haven Institute.

I am going to ask the ENT surgeon if he will save the tumor in a jar that I can display in my parlor. That's called Redneck Fu Schwing decorating. Hopefully my stepmother won't drink it during one of her connecting with Jesus through a bottle meeting. (she drank all of my cooking wine during her last holy moment)

Cancer it's not just an astrological sign in the shape of a large clawed crustacean. It's knocking at our door - close the shades, turn the locks and break out a big bottle of Jack Daniels and Moon Pies.

I'd rather watch Scarlett craft a dress from her velvet drapes again. Even Scarlett, with all her wonderful flaws could be tough. My husband, he's a tough one even General Sherman looks like an emotional whiny Atlanta-burning waste of muscle and bone next to him and his ability to be completely devoid of emotion. Do I smell smoke? Oh it's not Atlanta, it's just my gray matter burning due to having to think of someone other than me...or maybe I am building some character. Nah, that is way too deep of a concept for someone who thinks that People magazine is classic literature.

As God is my witness....I am just gonna put on my big ugly Wolverine snow boots and think about it tomorrow. Mammy tighten my corset we're in for a bumpy ride!

Peace and Greens
Debalcious