November 16: Soot and Fly Shit, Friend, Breast Cancer

Billy left his room, went down the slow elevator, walked over to Times Square, looked into the window of a tawdry bookstore.  In the window were hundreds of books about fucking and buggery and murder, and a street guide to New York City, and a model of the Statue of Liberty with a thermometer on it.  Also in the window, speckled with soot and fly shit, were four paperback novels by Billy's friend, Kilgore Trout.

The news of the day, meanwhile, was being written in a ribbon of lights on a building to Billy's back.  The window reflected the news.  It was about power and sports and anger and death.  So it goes.

Billy went into the bookstore.

Things really don't change all that much.  I have been to Times Square.  I've looked into the window of a tawdry bookstore there, probably saw the same stuff that Billy Pilgrim saw, minus the four Kilgore Trout paperbacks.  And I've seen the news in lights, and that news was all about power and sports and anger and death.  So it goes.

I'd like to believe that the world has somehow changed since Vonnegut envisioned Billy Pilgrim in Times Square back in the 1960s.  Unfortunately, things haven't gotten better.  They may have shooed away the hookers and forced the adult bookstores to close, but Times Square is pretty much the same.  So is the world.

Today, I saw a close friend that I haven't seen in a couple years.  She looked happy, healthy.  Unfortunately, my friend just learned that she has breast cancer.  In the next couple weeks, she's going to be getting bilateral mastectomies and reconstructive surgery.  Then she starts rounds of chemo.

I hugged my friend this afternoon.  Hard.  Asked her if there was anything I could do, even though I knew there wasn't.  She is a fighter and has been her whole life.  I know that she's going to beat this disease.  The thing she seemed most upset about was the fact that she had to postpone starting her college nursing program.

In a world that Kurt Vonnegut sees speckled with soot and fly shit, there are stories of hope and survival.  Yes, the world is still full of power and sports and anger and death, but my friend reminded me today that I don't have to give in to all that.  I can choose light instead of darkness.

So, this afternoon, Saint Marty is thankful for his friend, who is a sun in a world filled with shadows.

August 15: Don't Ever Tell, Missing Everybody, October Nights

...It's funny.  Don't ever tell anybody anything.  If you do, you start missing everybody.

Those are Holden's last words in The Catcher in the Rye, and they really speak to my state of mind today.

I've been very lucky in my medical office job.  I work with a person who is not just a dependable colleague, but also a close and caring friend.  Today was this friend's last day on the job.  She's quitting to stay at home with her three young daughters.  It's a great decision for her, but it leaves me friendless and coworker-less in the office.

I'm trying to avoid feeling sorry for myself, but I'm not succeeding very well.  I'm sure my attitude will improve in a few weeks.  At the moment, however, I see long days of work without breaks or help or laughter.  I have other friends in the surgical center, but nobody who understands the frustrations and stress of the business office.  And nobody who will immediately know if I need help/support/a sympathetic ear/a shoulder to cry on.

I have gotten all of these things from my friend in the past.  She's seen me through some of the darkest points of my life, when I could barely utter a coherent sentence let alone deal with patients.  She's had my back for the past five years.

So seeing her walk out the door of the office for the last time this afternoon was a little like Holden watching his sister, Phoebe, riding the carrousel at the end of Catcher.  Phoebe keeps going around and around, and Holden just sits on a bench, happy to watch her, knowing the moment is fleeting, as temporary as the heat of July.  The chill of October nights is right around the corner.

I'm feeling that chill right now.  I'm already missing my friend, and she's only been gone about four hours.  I know change is inevitable.  That doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.  I just have to sit on the bench and watch it happen.  Holden's right.  Change makes you miss people, especially people you care a great deal about.

And that's a piece of Saint Marty's mind.

What a load of crap!