I was told by my surgeon that I should not eat popcorn. And I was sitting here today and all I could think about was...Popcorn. So I made a bag of Paul Newman's best and I ate the whole thing. I figured, what's the worst that can happen? I get a stomach ache?! A stomach ache!! I would give anything to have just a stomach ache. So I ate another bag. And nothing has happened. And I think I have lost faith in my surgeon. He told me not to eat chips. He told me to eat healthy. I think I'm not going to listen to anyone anymore.
And here's a good one. I walked into a yoga class today carrying this special bottle that I now fill with water everyday to save the planet from all the Volvic bottles that mess up the landfills. And the lovely girl next to me looked horrified. "You don't leave that bottle in your car, do you?" And I told her that I did when I went into Ralphs or the pharmacy. And she turned pinker than her blush and told me that there was a study done on bottles left in cars and it turns out that if you leave them there for more than two minutes they gather bacteria and if you drink the water, you get cancer. "Oh, really." I said. And I told her that for my entire adult life I had eaten only healthy, organic food, that I had not eaten red meat since 1969 (true) and that I had exercised everyday since I was somewhere in my twenties and I still got cancer, you pink thing you, so don't tell me not to leave my bottle in the car because if you're going to get it, it almost doesn't matter what you do! And then we sat in the lotus position and said an ohm and I could tell she was a little shaken because she moved her mat as far away from me as possible. I smiled at her after class. And took a big drink of my water. My bad.
Okay, here is a very strange side effect of chemo. It makes me oddly horney. Is that the most disgusting thing you've ever heard? How can that be? I must be some kind of a very sick person. But both times I've had chemo, about three days after the treatment, I found myself lying in bed, fading off to sleep, thinking about lovely places like snow mountains, forests in Wisconsin, and then suddenly there are naked men and women romping around the forests and doing nasty, horrible things. Both times, I opened my eyes, ran into the kitchen to get a glass of apple juice, then got back into bed. And again, the naked people only this time there were animals and I don't even want to tell you where my mind went. This cannot be right. And then I started to think about the fact that I was unoffcially single for the first time in many years. And I had no one to tell these thoughts to. And the very clear truth is that a middle aged woman with cancer is not a great candidate for a date. "Oh, you'd love her. She looks great for her age and she might die soon so what do have to lose?" I guess that's one way to go. But I'm not in a lot of situations where I meet people. The chemo room is nice, though not a great pick up joint. But there's one guy, youngish, baldish in a Cal Ripkin sort of way though I am pretty sure he lost it to chemo. But he's got a hot wife and he's just a nice thing to look at. The other men are sort of old and creaky. I don't think I could go out with someone I've seen sitting in a barcalounger. And then I thought, Oh my God, my social life consists solely of chemo treatment. Otherwise I am swimming or home writing or...Oh my God. This is it. It's me and my dreams. Thank goodness they're exciting. Maybe I could have some kind of wild social life when I'm unconscious. Maybe I'll meet somebody in my dreams.
You know what, I'm going to have another bag of popcorn. My bad. My bad.