Chapter Eleven

Ken wakes me with a cup of coffee and a kiss. I don’t even remember hitting the snooze button. We go through our routine. I notice that we have added a lot more hugging and random touches to our routine. This is a good thing. Today Ken has to go to the dermatologist to get the margins of a bad spot removed. He had a red patch removed and it came back as basal cell carcinoma. So today they cut more out to make sure it’s all gone. Nope, I’m sure I don’t need you to go with me. He’s just giving me a local and carving it out. But this appointment gives us an extra fifteen minutes together before he has to leave. We take a brisk walk up and down the road.

Today I blow him a kiss as he goes into the S turn. I immediately go read about basal cell again to reassure myself he is really not dying on me. http://www.medicinenet.com/skin_cancer/article.htm#tocb
Again, Google is my friend. All those years climbing those poles without sunscreen.

How to fill my time. I organize my t-shirt pile by color hoping for inspiration to sew something. But I can’t get my mind off Ken and what is happening to his face.

Ken calls and is at work. All is well. The shots hurt, the procedure didn’t. I think i have five stitches. Call me if you need me. I’m only 10 minutes away. I love you. I love you too.

My friend Angela asks if I have ever considered blogging. She thinks I might have a story to tell. I think she is funny. This journal attempt of mine is like chicken scratch shorthand. My brain hurts and even talking about what is going on with me makes me ill. But her suggestion makes me remember why Leslie keeps telling me to journal. Sometimes, seeing it on paper, reading it as a story, can take some of the hurt and sting away.

I take a whole panic pill and begin to type. I have to stop and start a lot. I throw up. I cry. I walk away. This is too hard.

My caseworker from CIGNA calls. Hello, this is Kimberly. I am your nurse assigned to your case. We will be talking weekly while you are on leave. How are you? And there it is again. That awful question. Fine, I’m fine. How are you? I’m fine too. Now, can you tell me a little bit about what is happening with you. I think it’s a good thing I took a whole pill. For once I have excellent timing.

And again I talk about how I ended up in a fetal position at work to a complete stranger. My hives start itching, I concentrate on my breathing, I send my mind to Burning Man and I am standing on top of the art car, the wind is blowing in my face, and Ken’s arms are wrapped around me. I get through the story without having to hang up and try again later. Kimberly asks what sort of support system do you have? Is there anyone you can talk to. I tell her all about Ken. What is his name again? Ken. I have a Ken too, and he sounds a lot like yours. I am delighted for you. I know how lucky we are. Do you have any other medical issues? No, nope. I’m healthy as a horse. Regular checkups. No, I don’t want to hurt myself. No, I don’t want to hurt anyone else. She tells me I need to check in with my case manager also and tries to transfer me. Mary’s voicemail picks up so I get to leave a message that i’m sure makes me sound like a blabbering idiot.

Well, putting my mind at Burning Man got me through that, I’ll try it with writing.

I start typing. I send the first chapter to a couple of friends and ask, is there anything here? By the time Ken gets home from work I am on Chapter Three.

I make red snapper and corn on the cob for supper. It is divine. Lillian finished every bite with yummmm, so does Ken. Lillian figures out that she can eat the corn easier if her mommy holds it. She looks like a cartoon character mowing up and down the ear. I laugh so hard my tummy hurts.

I am surrounded by people who love me. I am in my fortress and I am safe. And I am having fun. Eventually,  I have to go back out into the real world, but for now I am coming back into myself.