Three Days Later

First, of all, THANKS to everyone for your loving comments and offers of help. I have a sneaking feeling that I will need assistance (be it hot dish, booze or diversion) before this is over.

Today's chapter in this saga is an observation of my hypocrisy.



I have not managed to take the whole "I have cancer" thing on board very well. Not that I think it's a mistake, or a sick practical joke or something. It's just not a description that I can make stick, yet. I find myself thinking, "What the doctor really meant was that I have some pre-cancerous cells." (Fact check: that's not what he said. He did say "cancer".) "Or, "cancer" is WAY too big a word for this little problem. I only have a little cancer. One of my friends laughed when I expressed this notion to her and asked me if it were the same as being a little bit pregnant. I mean, does this make me sick? I don't feel sick. I feel fine. Is it fair for me to refer to myself in language that is supposed to describe a serious and desperate condition? I can even push the whole thing to the back of my mind much of the time.



But...I have to say that I was in Whole Foods today, and was drawn to their beauty products, as I always am. It all just SMELLS SO GOOD.



I was supposed to be concentrating on a treatment for Sara's plantar wart. We visited the pediatrician yesterday and showed it to her. I asked about having it removed and the doctor actually recommended an amino acid supplement called L-Methionine. She told me that, given a few months of regular doses, Sara's wart will shrink away. It works for all warts, if anyone out there suffers from warts...



I digress. I found myself returning several times to the aisle where the spa-like products are located. I was able to resist temptation only a few days ago, but this time, I could not leave without a jar of yummy, vanilla scented salt scrub. As I took it off the shelf, I thought to myself, "Hey! I need a little spoiling! I have cancer!" How's that for rewriting the story any way I want at any given moment? Pffft!



******


In other news, I searched the stacks at the local public library today for a kids' book on puberty for Sara. I have tried all along to just do the explaining myself, without help from a book. But it turns out that she's getting embarrassed; more so than me. At least I think that's what all the giggling is about. Yesterday, both she and Nate asked to look at my breast, so they could see the bruising (which it bright jaunty yellow at the moment) and steri-strip covered incision. We were sitting in the pediatrician's examining room, waiting for her to come in, so I thought, "Why not?" I pulled up my shirt and was rewarded with loud "Eeeeeewwwwww"s My dad has always said that it is important to dazzle our children.



But this morning, Sara was watching me dress, as she often does, and made disparaging comments about pubic hair. As in, "Mom, why do have hair on your butt?" My butt? I'd hardly call it my butt. This child lacks some useful terminology. At any rate, I replied that all grown ups do. "Even Dad?" "Yes, everyone." What about hair in your armpits?" I lifted my arm to show her. "I would, but I shave it off." "Am I going to get hair everywhere?" "When you're a grownup, you'll have body hair like everyone else." I asked her if she wanted me to get her a book at the library that would offer more details on the whole hair question, as well as periods, where babies come from, etc... She liked the idea, so when we got there I went straight to the children's librarian and asked her for help. We examined several before finally choosing this one.







When I gave it to Sara, though, she just glanced at it quickly and whisked it away to her room. I suspect she may be poring over it with a flashlight right now.