Kevin's Dead Cat

After surgery sliced off an entire tumor and 1/3 of my tongue, plus six weeks of radiation therapy, I've been re-learning how to eat, drink, and talk with my newly re-constructed tongue and coping with side effects. But the cancer came back and I don't know what's going to happen next.

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Location: Los Angeles, California, United States

I don't want life to imitate art. I want life to be art.

Saturday, October 23, 2004

5 more weeks to go

The first week of radiation is history. Yesterday morning I had a donut, actually half of two different donuts. I could barely taste either one of them. I was afraid the diminished sense of taste was starting early. But after a bland dinner out I scored a Chocolate-Caramel swirl Freddo (Peet's Coffee, accept no substitutes), and all was right with the world. I guess the donuts were just... lame. But I do think my salty receptors have begun hibernating. I may start carrying a bottle of hot sauce in my purse.

Yesterday was a good day. I started my hellish commute a half hour early and was rewarded with a view of Downtown L.A. after three days of cleansing rain. It's the only place and time where I've witnessed golden blue light. I caught a couple of fellow commuters stopped on the 110 fwy just admiring the view, oblivious to the car inched half a mile ahead of them.

I did the touch-screen early voting thing at the Downtown Public Library before heading off to radiation. Gary Oldman was a guest on Jonesy's Jukebox, so there was good music and hilarious conversation about Peter Sellers and filming "Sid and Nancy" during my drive to the Westside. I actually shared a very crowded elevator with Mr. Oldman back when I lived at the Alexandria. He was filming something at the hotel, and man is he SHORT. Damn cute, though. He whispered something about the elevator "going sideways as well." I smiled and said, "Sideways, huh?" He got it and laughed.

I FINALLY got my hair cut. Five inches hacked off, and it's still long. Ferdie, my stylist for the last 11 years (has it been that long?) kinda lost his mind when he saw me. We hadn't seen each other since February, way before the cancer-thing. Usually, he whips out a straight edge razor and I'm out of the salon inside of an hour. But this time it was 90 minutes of disbelief (on his part) and reassurances (on my part). He must've been really shaken because he used scissors for the first time in I-don't-know-how-long. He's such a sweetheart. Is there anyone left in my life who doesn't know about the cancer-thing? Hmmmm.

Still don't have a Halloween costume. Maybe I'll skip the holiday this year entirely. No matter what I wear, who's going to swoop on a girl with two huge scars?


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