Expect The Unexpected

It really wasn't the news she was anticipating but then again, Loretta understands she should never anticipate anything. Ever. Expectations cause endless disappointment. Not the most positive of mindsets but Loretta knows from whence she speaks. Sixteen years of stasis in middle management,  two near-engagements; one long heartbreaking, slipshod divorce and five rounds of chemo later, Loretta expects nothing short of the unexpected. The first round had gone relatively well, as far as treatment goes. Three hours in hospital, then an easy day at home. Days two through six  knocked on her ass. Then she began the slow climb back to next-to-normal over the following two weeks. The frequency was wearing her down. At every three weeks, Loretta was familiar with the seesaw rhythm of up and down days. Right now was pretty freakin awful. The mass had spread, metastasized into her lungs; things weren't as positive as Loretta had hoped. This is the problem with expectations. Once something establishes a pattern, the brain and body automatically register it as such. Boom, expectations are born. Physical sense memory is carved into fascia, tendons and ligaments; muscle bellies respond with growth and repair; even the amygdala is changed- neurons are fired, oligodendrocytes and myelin sheaths expand. Then, a misfire. Cells go awry. Inflammation, dis-ease. Decomposition. Destruction. One step forward, nine hundred and eighty six back. Work is extending her sick leave. Greg offered to take care of the dog. Her oncologist is referring her to another specialist. Small mercies. Loretta's body is failing and she doesn't know what to do. Give over. Give in. Stand up and fight. First she tries to let go of expectation. Unlearn the what-ifs and discard the maybes.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Moving in Stasis

Go. Get on that plane, that train, that bus. Walk if you have to. Swim, we've got great lakes and oceans and rivers. So many bodies of water and tracts of land to get across. Find a way, they said, just get here, soon. And so Tally packed a bag with just the essentials: a blueberry corn muffin with a shmear of cream cheese, her well worn pocket stone she rubs in her left hand, a packet of mints from the drive in theatre, and two pineapple juice boxes. A clean pair of socks, some dental floss, mom's old cigarette lighter she stole off her bureau, and twenty three dollars and eighty five cents in change. That was the heaviest part of her backpack. She wondered if she was forgetting something but her mind raced with all the things at once. Will her shoes be comfortable on the long journey? Did she feed the cockatiel before she left the house? How can she get across the ocean if the boats aren't docking in the harbour anymore? What if she runs out of money? Will Joseph be
Read more

Kindness Is A Boomerang

If he can make it off the couch to the kitchen, then he'll be up and at 'em. Movement is motion and motion is energy and like a battery, he'll recharge. Feel better. Or different. Good enough. Long nights of hourly wake ups, followed by the struggle to quiet his mind. Loop, loop, looping through endless thoughts of what if and who will and I should and maybe they'll but just go to sleep. Sleep. No tech in his room, just sleep and sex. Although physical touch has been lacking. Wanting. Week seven, but who's counting.  And that's just sheltering in place. Before that, well...seasons. The sky is bright. City living with no light pollution is like life at the cottage on Lac St Joseph. There are meteors tonight, a shower or falling or maybe it's his brain playing tricks on his eyes. Looking for things  he can't possibly see. Four missed calls. Thirteen notifications. No one he's pining for so it's a wash. Is it too late to get up... too early
Read more

Good, Not Great

She hits the down button. Two hospital admin types, young women in almost stylish outfits, the ones afforded on entry level salaries, wait on a car going up. The elevator arrives, doors open, she steps on then realizes she's going up. Force of habit, she says aloud to no one in particular, pavlovian response. The two women sort of smile as they study the floor, suddenly intensely awkward and private. She gets louder as she backs out of the car. Doors close and she hovers her finger over the already illuminated down button. Right, just did that. It's quiet here, far from the madding crowd. Emerg was busy, mainly the geriatric crew. A few indigent and drunk and disorderlies draped over chairs, hanging out of gurneys, buried under sheets and gowns, moaning, rambling incoherently. It's the large-and-in-charge paramedic night: 4 teams of doughy young men stand sentinel with their wards, buried in paperwork, bored with the hurry and up wait logjam of daily deliveries.
Read more