A long time ago I was hit by a car. I was riding my bicycle on Santa Monica Blvd. and Doheny and a man took a wrong turn and knocked me unconscious. The man was a guy named Clifford Irving. Richard Gere played him in a move last year called Hoax. Never saw it. Mr. Irving pretended to know Howard Hughes and wrote a fake book about him. Anyway, I had four fractures in my pelvis and a bunch of torn ligaments in my knee and I was walking around the hospital trying out my new cast that went from my hip to my ankle and I limped right into Groucho Marx who was also walking around the corridors only he was smoking a cigar which I'm sure was not allowed but who was going to stop Groucho? Without missing a beat he took one look at me and said, "What's a nice "goil" like you doing in a place like this?" I told him what had happened to me and told him I was in a theater company and he tipped his beret and said, "Ah, the theater." and then continued down the hall and into his room. I could hear a very loud nurse demanding that he snuff out his cigar. I could hear him singing her a song. He was cute. It was Groucho. And for a few days after that I actually thought it was very cool to live in LA.
The Vitamin Drip. I loved it. The doctor told me it would probably absorb right into my body and I wouldn't feel the effects of the drip until I went in a few times. But for a couple hours after the drip I felt like a normal person and that was heaven. So, I am at once addicted. However, as Gilda said, it's always something, isn't it? So there I am in the drip room. Sort of like the chemo room with barcaloungers set up in a circle and little tables next to them with bells on them to ring for the nurse if something goes wrong. Kathleen the nurse got me all set up and I must say did a great job of finding my vein which is not an easy task and I settled in to read my book for the hour and half drip time and then HE walked in. A guy named David. He was there for some other kind of drip and he started talking to Kathleen before he even sat down and did not stop FOREVER and OhmyGod I learned waaaaay too much about David. He's the brother of a guy on NPR whom I won't mention in case you know him and he sells pianos and he was in a band (which he swears is the best band EVER even though no one has ever heard of them) and he liked my shoes which I'd gotten at Shoe Pavilion and I swear when she put in his IV he talked even faster and I wondered what he was taking and what he had and maybe he was there because he had some kind of wierd talking disease. And, of course, I couldn't read my book because he was TOO LOUD and I tried to close my eyes and imagine I was somewhere else but he had one of those booming voices and I could only imagine myself trapped in an elevator with a very loud man and that didn't seem like a calm place to go so I decided to join in the conversation. "Tall me about your pianos." And that answer took about forty minutes and ended up being about the middle East (What is he talking about!!) and then finally this sweet lady came in for her drip and Kathleen had to tend to her and I swear, the MINUTE, and I mean the minute she stepped away from his chair he FELL ASLEEP! He was out cold in a matter of seconds.
And as I sat there for the last ten minutes of my drip I started wondering if everyone in the universe was ANNOYING or was I just a magnet for annoying people. Or was I an intolerant asshole. And then I thought that maybe I should live in some remote part of the world where there wouldn't be people to get in the way of your drip. But I doubted there actually were drips in Greenland or Iceland but on the other hand maybe I would be able to meditate and clear my mind in Greenland and just feel the moment and who would need a vitamin drip? Oh my God I hate recovery. It's really so much better when you're preparing for the operation and thinking optimistic thoughts because in recovery you see how things really are and sometimes they are just not so much fun. Now I can't blame David for everything but maybe I will because you have to blame someone. I have my next drip on Tuesday and already I'm anxious. Do you think possibly that this is how I got cancer in the first place? I should have relaxed when I had the chance.
And The Secret Word is..............."Breathe".
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1 comment:
I'm constantly looking for the latest word from you, when two days pass, I worry (it's a Jewish thing) was doing some research for my husband and googled pianos, lo and behold I slept with Robert DeNiro... Would love to hear from you.
Cheri (Bodenstein)
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