Who Was That Masked Man?

Before I discuss yesterday's chemo episode, I must discuss the Cubs. They are now in first place in their division and since we find ourselves strangely connected I am following them like some crazy bleacher bum now to the point where I listen all night to these sports nuts on espn who are saying that the Cubs and Mets will play off for the series and the Cubs will probably be the winners. Now I could be very self congratulatory and say they are doing this because of me but if you think about it that would mean they were doing it because they think if they win I will die. Thank goodness I changed my wish to living long enough to see them win the series twice in a row. Puleeze. They haven't won since 1892. Why now? But I have decided to turn a possible negative into a possible positive and I have decided to start a Make A Trish Wish Foundation. If the Cubs go to the World Series, I must go to a game. In Wrigley Field. And the great thing about The Make A Trish Wish Foundation is that it makes all worthy wishes come true. Oh, I'm taking down my luggage right now, got my Cubs cap and my Wrigley Field snow globe. (I kid you not. I'm looking at it right now.) And I know if I close my eyes and click my Adidas together three times and chant, "There's no place like Wrigley, there's no place like Wrigley..." I will be sitting up in those bleachers come October with all of those other pudgy crazed Chicago fans and it will feel like the most perfect dream I've ever had.



So...chemo...Seems to have gone smoothly. Both my thumbs work. The arms a little sore where I got the treatment but it's getting better every hour. But on to the good stuff...So I'm sitting there reading about boys in Time Magazine. A ridiculous article, I might add. You know, stuff about the woman's movement and how it made men feel less than masculine and how it's all changed now and boys have their sense of self back and oh boy was that a boring article. But luckily, right in the middle of it, before I started ripping the pages out, this cute man, about my age, sat down right next to me. Right next to me!! And he was not wearing a ring. That, of course, is often meaningless like his finger might have been swollen or he lost the ring (right!) or something but the point was he was not wearing one. So I smiled and he smiled and I could not believe there was actually someone next to me who wasn't one hundred and ten years old. So he starts talking to the nurse and I start doing insane things like finding a mirror and making sure there wasn't food on my mouth or on my teeth and I tried adjusting my IV in some sort of sexy position. (Try to do that. I do not think even Angelina Jolie could make an IV look sexy unless she put it on her lips.) So by the time I finished all of my "freshening up" I looked over at this highly available cute man and he was lying there with his I-Pod in his ears and a sleeping mask on his eyes and he was covered from head to toe in a blanket and he was snoring. This all took place in approximately one minute. So I realized that this was certainly not the man for me. What kind of a human falls asleep in sixty seconds? In a barcalounger? With an IV in his arm? I mean maybe if he was listening the White Stripes or something cool on his IPod. But it sounded more like Bread or one of those groups they play in the dentists office. So I sighed and picked up a magazine that someone before me had left behind. It was the Learning Annex. As I remember, the Learning Annex used to have some interesting lectures. I once actually saw Anne LaMott through that catalogue. Well, the entire Learning Annex is now all about how to make a million dollars in two days. Or write a novel in twelve hours. Or become a life coach in five minutes. Everything has to be done very quickly. I guess if you have cancer that's probably a good thing but for most people who have long lives, why on earth do they have to do everything in one minute! And why does everyone have to make a million dollars? I mean, that would be nice, yes, but isn't that something you work for for years after you've learned how to actually do something? You make a million dollars because you worked very hard and went from office boy to manager to CEO. I heard a radio ad recently where the guy is saying that doing this particular scheme thought up by some guy named Jim, he has made himself a million dollars without leaving his home and he never has to work again. And he's only 22 years old. Well, what the hell is he going to do for the rest of his life? My favorite, actually, was how to make a million dollars doing foot massage. Can you imagine how many awful feet you'd have to touch and how much can one actually charge for a foot massage? Hey, make a million dollars writing a blog. No, I'd have to make it more appealing by adding...Make a million dollars IN FIVE MINUTES, by writting a blog. See, if you'd all send me a hundred dollars...Hmmmm. I've got to call that Learning Annex.

On to surgery. I will find out on Tuesday what the next move is going to be. Oh, I can barely stand the suspense.

Between my operation and the Cubs possiblilites, this year is turning out to be one damn exciting 2007. Please, someone stop the madness.