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2004-04-15 || 2:06 p.m. || . || mummy called me yesterday while i was at work. there has been a very nice mum-daughter dialogue going on lately thanks to Life Direction Crisis 2004 aka first MFA program rejection letter. so she called. and i answered. and after making fun of my professional office voice, she said "i have something to tell you," which invariably means "someone has died." i quickly scanned the next to die list, settling on a great uncle who has been spending lots of time in the hospital. then she said "everything is okay," which means "what i'm about to tell you is going to make you cry at your desk." and then she started talking about her boob. like that. "there was a mass in my boob and i got it checked out and had to go to specialists in newport beach" and my head started reeling. mum has the most even voice that quickly disconnects from the subject she's talking about, so it's hard to pay attention to the words. there was a mass in her breast and it didn't look good so she had to see doctors who used torture devices and needles. they did a biopsy and she had to wait several days to get the results. "every time i looked at your father he'd burst into tears," which kills me. they got the results and it was benign "but i didn't want to say anything until i knew what it was." which kills me the most. that she was wandering around for a week with this sealed letter pinned to her breast, not knowing what the note said inside. cancer scribbled in some kind of evil handwriting. or cancer printed out by machine in such a tiny font that you had to use a magnifying glass to see it, and then have to use a magnifying glass over and over to make sure that's really what it said. but it came up blank. "i'm okay. but they put a metal clip in my boob so the next time i get a mammogram they'll know the mass was checked out." i want to drive down to her house. i want to be holding her hand and not letting go for some time. i want to gather my parents up and make sure they're safe and keep them from notes of bad news that might get pinned to their bodies. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |