Surfacing

Ten years ago I got a tattoo on the back of my neck. For everyone throughout the years who've been bugging me to tell them what it means, you're patience is about to pay off; it's the Chinese character for "hoping." I got it during another low point to remind myself- to get in the habit of being hopeful. It worked then. I've been rubbing it like a talisman since the 2nd biopsy. Maybe when this is all over I'll tell you what the character below it represents.

Last night, Chuck and I attended the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company performance at the Music Center. It was amazing. I've been wanting to watch this company ever since I read Vanity Fair's write-up on "Last Supper at Uncle Tom's Cabin" back in the 90s. So that's another item crossed off my "someday" list.

I've been crossing a few things off that list lately. It's one of the upsides to having your life threatened.

During the walk home afterwards I told Chuck about the cancer coming back. We hadn't spoken for almost two weeks because his girlfriend was visiting on her spring break. I don't know if it was because of the show, how we are, or my meditation paying off, but I wasn't sad or angry when I told him.

One minute we were walking past the L.A. Cathedral talking about attending mass tomorrow for the Pope's death, the next I'm describing Dr. S's prognosis. It's so easy talking with Chuck about my cancer. Maybe since his mother is a survivor he gives off the attitude of "everything will work out alright," and it's very calming.

I've been avoiding James for the exact opposite reason. With Chuck (and John come to think of it) I don't feel self-conscious when I talk about the cancer. But since James was right there with me the first time, especially through the bad stuff, it's harder leaning on him this time around. He knows too much, and I feel guilty putting him through it all over again. But mostly, I don't want to re-live the crime, and he's a star witness.