Everybody Loves a Trainwreck
Oct. 15th, 2016 10:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraReally odd dream in which B had six sons under 15 in addition to Max and RTT.
I made some pseudo-parenting recommendation, and he told me cordially but coldly that these were not my children and that he would be entertaining no advice from me about their upbringing.
Else?
The Former Democratic Candidate and I did the movie date thing – The Girl on the Train I liked it and was surprised to find out when I was combing the Internets later that it had gotten shitty reviews. I thought it was like a combination of Bergman and Hitchcock; the opening shots in particular, giant close-ups of women’s faces, reminded me a lot of Persona. Maybe the movie would have gotten better reviews if it had been dubbed in Swedish with English subtitles?
Also, of course, Rachel does what I do when I’m taking that very same train ride into Manhattan: stare rudely at my fellow passengers and impose subtexts on to the scenes I glimpse as the train is rushing by. One picky editorial note: The MetroNorth does not run closely enough to Ardsley to see any of the individual houses. No McMansion real estate developer in his or her right mind would build houses that close to the tracks.
The Former Democratic Candidate is not doing so well: She has a particularly unpleasant biopsy scheduled for week after next.
“And what are you expecting?” I asked. You know me. Tact is not a strong point.
“Well,” she said smiling, “I expect it to be bad news. My markers are up. A month after the chemo, my markets were 2.3. The healthy level is 1.5 to 2.5. But now they’re 8.4.”
I thought for a moment. “Well, you known, what those tests measure is an enzyme that’s associated with the cancer cells. If the cancer cells are still dying, lysing because of the chemo and radiation, that might be why the markers are higher.”
Of course, I have no idea if this is actually true. But it sounds good, right?
At the best of times, the Former Democratic Candidate is inclined to be solipsistic. Last night, she was monomaniacal. I know her complete social schedule for the next 10 days! But I heard her out, nodding and smiling encouragingly at the appropriate points. I’m fond of the Former Democratic Candidate with all her flaws.
“You know, when I was teaching in Poughkeepsie, I never got invited to any of the other teachers’ social stuff. Not once! And I taught for 22 years,” the FDC told me.
I’ll bet, I thought. The FDC does not suffer fools gladly. And when you're doing something she considers fucked up, she does not spare her tongue. How could you possibly do XYZ? she'll say. You're wrong.
I wouldn’t dream of telling her, for example, that I have no intention of voting for Hillary Clinton.
“But when I found out I had cancer, I can’t tell you the number of people who reached out to me –," she continued.
Ah, yes. Well. Everybody loves a train wreck, I thought.
But what I said was, “You’re loved, D! I mean, even me. I’ve known you for less than a year, but I have the highest regard for your strength, for your humor, for your indomitable spirit –“
Well. That much was true, at least.
Still. I remembered what B told me once. When he was very, very sick. When he thought he was going to die. When I thought he was going to die.
“At the beginning,” B said, “everybody wants to do something for you. But you don’t really need them to do anything for you. Because at that point, you’re still capable of doing for yourself.
“Six weeks down the line, they’re forgotten all about you. Nobody really cares. You’re all alone. It’s better just to tunnel down.”
I really care! I wanted to tell B then. Maybe I even did say it. A bad memory like mine can be highly selective.
And the transition from spouse to family member can be a thorny one.
What is B exactly to me these days? My best friend? My brother?
I don’t know. But I would be devastated if he were no longer around.
Fortunately, he’s entirely cured now and should be around for a long time.
I made some pseudo-parenting recommendation, and he told me cordially but coldly that these were not my children and that he would be entertaining no advice from me about their upbringing.
Else?
The Former Democratic Candidate and I did the movie date thing – The Girl on the Train I liked it and was surprised to find out when I was combing the Internets later that it had gotten shitty reviews. I thought it was like a combination of Bergman and Hitchcock; the opening shots in particular, giant close-ups of women’s faces, reminded me a lot of Persona. Maybe the movie would have gotten better reviews if it had been dubbed in Swedish with English subtitles?
Also, of course, Rachel does what I do when I’m taking that very same train ride into Manhattan: stare rudely at my fellow passengers and impose subtexts on to the scenes I glimpse as the train is rushing by. One picky editorial note: The MetroNorth does not run closely enough to Ardsley to see any of the individual houses. No McMansion real estate developer in his or her right mind would build houses that close to the tracks.
The Former Democratic Candidate is not doing so well: She has a particularly unpleasant biopsy scheduled for week after next.
“And what are you expecting?” I asked. You know me. Tact is not a strong point.
“Well,” she said smiling, “I expect it to be bad news. My markers are up. A month after the chemo, my markets were 2.3. The healthy level is 1.5 to 2.5. But now they’re 8.4.”
I thought for a moment. “Well, you known, what those tests measure is an enzyme that’s associated with the cancer cells. If the cancer cells are still dying, lysing because of the chemo and radiation, that might be why the markers are higher.”
Of course, I have no idea if this is actually true. But it sounds good, right?
At the best of times, the Former Democratic Candidate is inclined to be solipsistic. Last night, she was monomaniacal. I know her complete social schedule for the next 10 days! But I heard her out, nodding and smiling encouragingly at the appropriate points. I’m fond of the Former Democratic Candidate with all her flaws.
“You know, when I was teaching in Poughkeepsie, I never got invited to any of the other teachers’ social stuff. Not once! And I taught for 22 years,” the FDC told me.
I’ll bet, I thought. The FDC does not suffer fools gladly. And when you're doing something she considers fucked up, she does not spare her tongue. How could you possibly do XYZ? she'll say. You're wrong.
I wouldn’t dream of telling her, for example, that I have no intention of voting for Hillary Clinton.
“But when I found out I had cancer, I can’t tell you the number of people who reached out to me –," she continued.
Ah, yes. Well. Everybody loves a train wreck, I thought.
But what I said was, “You’re loved, D! I mean, even me. I’ve known you for less than a year, but I have the highest regard for your strength, for your humor, for your indomitable spirit –“
Well. That much was true, at least.
Still. I remembered what B told me once. When he was very, very sick. When he thought he was going to die. When I thought he was going to die.
“At the beginning,” B said, “everybody wants to do something for you. But you don’t really need them to do anything for you. Because at that point, you’re still capable of doing for yourself.
“Six weeks down the line, they’re forgotten all about you. Nobody really cares. You’re all alone. It’s better just to tunnel down.”
I really care! I wanted to tell B then. Maybe I even did say it. A bad memory like mine can be highly selective.
And the transition from spouse to family member can be a thorny one.
What is B exactly to me these days? My best friend? My brother?
I don’t know. But I would be devastated if he were no longer around.
Fortunately, he’s entirely cured now and should be around for a long time.
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no subject
Date: 2016-10-15 05:55 pm (UTC)When you’re sick or injured, people love to do things for you early on. It makes them feel like they’re doing their part; it makes them feel good about themselves. But if you have something long-term, if you have the audacity to linger in your illness instead of getting well or going off to die somewhere, then they become aggravated with you. “Why is this taking you so long?” they ask. “It’s not fun anymore.”
no subject
Date: 2016-10-15 06:10 pm (UTC)Well, I don't actually know you LJ folks. For the most part. :-)
no subject
Date: 2016-10-20 03:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-20 03:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-20 06:24 pm (UTC)