24 November 2008

From Darkness Into Light

I woke up this morning feeling kind of numb. But as I thawed, a dark mood washed over me. I was full of anger and rage. And, to top it off, my internet was down. Not the best thing when you need to communicate. A cube of Post-Its was a casualty of this when I hurled it at the bookshelf. I'm not prone to fits like this. It's not generally the way I like to start my day. But, today, my friend is having surgery. And I am pissed.

Like they say, first you cry. Last Tuesday was spent in a flood of tears. But that's not what my friend needed or wanted. She simply asked us for our positive energy, good thoughts and love. To picture her happy and healthy and full of life. And that is so easy to do. She is the kind of person you can't help but smile when you think of. So, I have been smiling and focusing on her speedy recovery with great joy every minute of every day. We are in it to win it. Not a tear was shed from then, until today.

She and I have known each other since the 7th grade, but only got back in touch this spring. A mere twenty years had slipped by, but we made up for lost time with "wine dates" shared over the phone. And emails. We spent election night "together", breathing sighs of relief, talking about how hot Obama is, and what a gorgeous family they are. We felt so proud that we got such a good man in office, and by such a margin. Then we talked about what was going on with us. How well her three year-old son's doing. How she looked forward to her husband coming back from his trip. My nutty job. Our writing.

She and I marvel over the similarities we share. Obviously, I don't have an adorable son or a hot husband, but there are other things. Little coincidences. Uncanny duplications. We are connected in a fantastically peculiar way. We joke that we were separated at birth. I call her my soul sister. I love her that dearly.

I wouldn't think that three weeks later we would get such hard news. I'm not even going to write what she was diagnosed with. I don't want to give it the energy or make it any more real. Sorry if that seems wimpy or odd. I don't care. I can't even speak it. It makes me too mad. This is unfair. This is wrong. It has to be a mistake. But, right now, she is on her way to the hospital. She is hugging her son. She is putting on her gown. They are putting in IVs. She is kissing her husband. And at 3:30 PM (PST) she will be in the hands of the surgical team and the oncologist and God. I hope that you will think of her then with goodness and light. Thank you.

I've done well up until today. It has been easy to be positive and to know that she is just fine. This is merely a blip. And I do believe that. But today, I am so pissed off this is happening to her. I am so angry that she has to go through this. But, she's not. She has been nothing but graceful. She has been funny and open and full of life, just like she always is. Her husband is equally amazing. I am so proud of the way they have taken this on. And embarrassed that I am falling apart.

Another friend called to let me know she was thinking of my friend. She asked me how I was. I broke down, talking in broken sentences, red-faced like a two year-old having a tantrum because I couldn't express what I am feeling and why. It's just rage. Utter rage that this is happening. And it is the most useless, pathetic feeling I've ever experienced. As any good friend would, she tried to console me. But there's nothing quelling this ire. You don't need to tell me everything will be okay. I know it is okay. You don't need to tell me the best thing I can do for her is to be strong and be there for her. I am. Just let me have these couple of hours yell and cry and be so mad at it. Because soon, it will be gone. And I want it to be damn sure of the fact it is not welcomed back here. Stay away from my friend. Don't even think of coming near us again. Because when we said we were all in this fight with her, we meant it. We won't back down. So it might as well understand, it doesn't stand a chance.

I'm trying to take deep breaths and get my shit together. But I want to punch something. I want to kick it and break it and smash it to bits. So much for my Buddha nature, huh? Well, fuck it. I'm human and prone to flaws. Of course, all of this isn't going to help her. I've got to focus back on the good.

At 3:30 today, I will be on my knees, chanting and praying and smiling and sending her all the love and goodness in the world. Soon, we will be clinking cocktails in person, celebrating her recovery and laughing at the dented Post-It cube.

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