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Posted 2018-11-21T18:39:38Z

20 - 20, fun goodbyes and knife fights

Tuesday, November 21, 2018. Virginia Read, 9/27/29

When radiation joined surgery in the DONE column. 

And with it, ugly cry gratitude for whole new group of medical goddesses

and two fucking kickass new friends. 

I find it very appropriate and reassuring that the techs

in charge of shooting gamma rays* into my boob are also

fearless of a good filthy joke. 

So we did not take the final day seriously by any means. 

Eliza was in charge of marking me up. 

TITTY TITTY BANG BANG 

was the mantra of the day. 

I found a colorful tutu in the costume box. 

And all this was made apparent when I accepted the techs dare

and flashed the whole hallway walking back to treatment. 

(i did have pants on)

 

After a lovely lunch discussing washing machines and merchandising,

I threw my feet up with some crime TV,

and did close to nothing the rest of the day. 

Except transition from jeans to sweats to jammies. 

Celebration, radiation style. 

 

And then there's today.

6 years since my ma left this world for the next.

Among other necessary pre-thanksgiving prep, shorty and I are making

lunch bags and heading out around town to find people who need them

It was shorty's idea. And I love it. 

For those of you who haven't heard a million stories about my ma,

I will try to make it brief. I learned from her mistakes. I learned from her victories. 

And no matter what my mom was going through, she was the queen of generosity,

her castles where the soup kitchens of Detroit.

Every thanksgiving week, we'd have so many damn delicious smelling turkeys

dropped off at the house for my teenage ass to whine about not being able to eat.

Then she'd load em up and head down to Father Lumpkins kitchen in downtown Detroit to carve em all up

and feed the one's who needed it. She even  had someone pull a knife on her demanding seconds, 

to which she calmly replied, "of course you can have seconds, no knife needed. just ask"

Yeah, my mom was a badass in lots of ways. (Aw gawd, Gin, no I wasn't)

And taught me daily, no matter how bad you have it, others still need your help. 

Feeling sorry for yourself gets you nowhere. Helping others moves you forward,

while hopefully helping them move forward.

 

So yes, no matter how raw nipsy is, how tired I am or how tight my armpit is,  (real real tight, for the record)

I am one lucky chicken. And the universe and my ma keep letting me know I best not forget that.

 

So with the bell rung three times, I go into mega healing mode. 

Let these boobs make their way to to at least start looking like they're cousins. 

Right now lefty is the wierdo that shows up the the family reunion

hangs out at the bar, and no one can quite remembers who they are.

Yeah, that's baggies full of shrimp cocktail in their pocket. 

 

And set my feet steady to take the stomach punch of endocrine therapy.

And I won't bitch one iota about my stomach being bruised. 

Because there are too many who's stomachs are empty.

And that hurts a whole hell of a lot worse.

 

May you, my people, all have full stomachs and full hearts. But not full pants.

(don't worry, it's still me here)

 

Happy prepping. Enjoy the people around you even if they drive you batshit crazy. 

They're just bozo's on the bus, too. 

 

Love, Ginnie

 

PS: Fuck cancer 

 

*actually just x-ray radiation -- but gamma rays sounds much more sci-fi.

 

WARNING: GROSS RADIATION TRUTH BELOW

 

If you wondering how I picked this type color. This is the current discoloration of nipsy. ewwwww

 

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Comments (2)

  • Cathy
    Cathy

    Thanks for making me laugh and cry at the same time. Well done. And the pic of Eliza - OMG - they were just babies!!!! Love ya! XOXOXOX -Cathy

    one year ago · Reply
  • jean
    jean

    Ginnie - you look like your mom! She sounds amazing. And Eliza is a lovely young woman already. Wow!

    one year ago · Reply