A Decided Lack of Ghosts

I think the thing I find most confusing about this is that I feel fine. Even the other times that they were like “Oh, it could be cancer,” in one case, I was randomly and spontaneously bleeding from every orifice and so clearly something was wrong, and in the other case, I was having trouble breathing and thought I might have pneumonia again.

But this time? I feel fine. I can’t even feel the inch-diameter thing in there they want to biopsy. If I just check in with myself, I feel fine.

And it’s such bullshit. If my body is my house, it is haunted. It has a spirit in it that wanders around crocheting afghans, writing ghost stories, and watching TV. This spirit feels like she fully inhabits the house, like there’s no closet or toe or basement or rib that is off-limits to her. So, how can there be anything potentially bad in the house without the spirit knowing it? How did I somehow not notice the marble of shit in my boob? How, even now, can I not sense it?

I have a better sense, when I step into my kitchen, whether the Butcher is somewhere in the house even if I can’t see or hear him, than I do about this thing.

Which, I guess, is the other hard part. My parents want to come down and… do what? As of yet, I don’t need people to do my dishes or bring us food. In fact, last night, I made this fantastic thing that was pretending to be a pilaf. I mean, I guess it was a pilaf, just at the general level of being rice cooked in stock with spices, but I highly doubt that there’s any real pilaf recipe that calls for asparagus and cashews, and yet, dear readers, I tell you, it was pretty damn good.

I don’t really need anything yet. I don’t feel bad. I’m just frightened and upset, but that’s not really something I need help with. So, I don’t know. It’s just weird.

5 thoughts on “A Decided Lack of Ghosts

  1. Something I have learned about parents: sometimes they feel the need to comfort in order to be comforted themselves, whether or not their child needs anything. For whatever that’s worth…

  2. Not to be dissing your parents, but I don’t think they will be any help. Unless being stressed more would be helpful?
    ( I tell my mom after things are over because I get over reacting or ‘not hearing this’ from her. So I have learned to save my energy to get through whatever. Then I can just report and deflect.)

  3. Yeah, that’s the thing. Everything is fine except that it isn’t. No matter what the result, for now, everything is upside down and backwards. Your feelings are perfectly normal.

  4. Did you cook your rice in fat or oil before adding the stock? Because, if not, that’s no kind of pilaf.

    Caring parents like to fuss over their kids. As Bridgett says, it comforts them, but it comforts them b/c it makes them feel that they’re protecting you, which is their job. It’s up to you to accept the help, reject it, or (my advice after recent bouts with biopsies and knives and things) ask them to schedule it for when you’ll really need it (which you probably will), after the physicians have done their stuff.

    I think we mostly do know, in a macro way, what’s going on with our bodies. There are micro things that we just don’t have the senses to perceive, though. I find that thought frustrating sometimes (in the sense of there being real limits on the genome), but mostly delightful (in the ways that we humans have devised to cope with the limits). But it isn’t a failure on your part, that’s for sure.

  5. Bridget is a genius.

    It sounds like from what you’re saying that you might, through no bad acts on anyone’s part, end up doing more care taking than being taken care of if they came down so it might depend on how you feel about that.

    Good thoughts and ass kicking energies being sent to you.

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