Of the Love We Get and Give…

I was reaching for my favorite mug when a combination of nerve pains shot through my right arm and made me lose control of my hand for an instant. I dropped my favorite mug. My favorite mug landed in the sink… So, it didn’t completely shatter. I was left with two large pieces and some bits of ceramic.

“Neuropathy is a sneaky bastard”, I said to my Piano Man, who had run to the kitchen to investigate the commotion.

“You know it’s the chemo”, he said, reaching for me, stroking my shoulders as we both watched my arm twitch. When I tried picking up the pieces, my Piano Man touched my hand. “You don’t want to nick your skin. I will take care of this.” I handed the trash bag I had been holding. “We’re not throwing it out”, he said, and the outrage in his voice made me smile. “You can turn it into a planter.” I loved him more in that moment for those perfect words. I love him for so many reasons. I love, love, love him because he gets me.

This morning, I found my favorite scarred mug next to my coffee maker. My Piano Man wholed all the pieces before leaving for work. With a face full of grins and a heart bursting with love for a man who loves and knows me well, I filled the cracks with sparkles… and turned the new planter into the home of a wee succulent that I rescued (or plant-napped *cough*) last summer.

 

Earlier today, a friend told me how terrible she feels whenever she needs my help these days… We both know how little time and energy cancer treatment allows me. I reminded her that there have been days when I would’ve stayed in bed if she hadn’t needed me. She helps me free myself from traps made of pillows and sheets and rather costly comfort. Helping her helps my brain and heart remember that a friend needs me. There is wild healing magic in circles made of love we get and give (and of friends who whole each other better).

This belief is what always inspires me to give all I can and celebrate all I get. And speaking of gifts and wonders, I have a handful to be extra thankful for:

I’m grateful for the gift of my Piano Man
and my new favorite planter

I’m grateful for GJ (short for Gina Jr.)
a dolly crafted with love and yarn (mostly with wild love, I am sure)

I’m grateful for Gina, for winged thoughts,
and for stories inked with me in mind

I’m grateful for Rommy
and for creepy Gorey books that make me grin like a lunatic

I’m grateful for Susie
and for red and black skully ornaments that cheer me to no end

I’m so grateful for all of you, who keep on feeding my ink with your reading presence… even when I can’t be as reciprocal as I’ve been in the past. You, my Wicked Luvs, rocketh very mucho and heal me even mostest. Thank you.

 

Bald Is Better with Earrings (and a sexy Piano Man who gets funky pre-going-bald haircuts with you)

“Don’t think of it as dying”, said Death. “Just think of it as leaving early to avoid the rush.” ~ Good Omens, by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman  

 

Nope, I am not dying just yet, my Wicked Luvs, so stop reaching for your blood-red-and-midnight-black best… I just really love this quote. All right, I love most Pratchett quotes… and when my Knight Writer’s imaginative wit is joined by the yumminess of Neil Gaiman, well… I must share the wild, wild, wild wisdom.

I love that those words embrace the soul and center of my chronic positivity: I do believe, believe, believe… that there will always be something great to get out of even the worst of situations: if the next few months promise to keep you dazed for hours at the time, catch up with all those TV shows you’ve been meaning to watch; if all your bits get so exhausted that you feel they are about to fall off, think of the whole thing as a challenge against your endurance; if the glorious jungle that is your hair is about to fall off in a week or 3, get funky haircuts with your partner in crime, in love, in living; when life gets too serious for games, play seriously hard; when darkness threatens to feed on all that is bright, let your fire burn, shine…

This year, my Piano Man and I were not so sure we would make it to New York Comic Con. I was supposed to have a port inserted last week, on the same day the convention started. But… completely coincidentally (and not because my doctors totally rock), the surgery was scheduled for after the convention. We did not attend two or 3 days, as we have done in the past, but we got to go on Sunday. And since the very first thing we saw (a Good Omens booth) included the phrase “third nipple”, I just knew all would be well (and slightly hysterical).

If we’re friends on Facebook, then you already saw this picture. Still, I had to share it again. I mean, how often do you get to show the faces of your husband and your TV boyfriend in the same picture? *waves at Crowley aka the coolest Doctor ever*.

There was not a lot of swag (that my Piano Man and I were interested in) this year, but we found rather cool earrings for the not-so-little Princess and for me. This pair glows in the dark. I might have to take them trick-or-treating.

Remember that bit I said at the beginning? About how “I believe… that there will always be something great to get out of even the worst of situations”? Well, I have finally figure out what to do with all the pins I have been hoarding for years. This one, which reads, “I’m wondering what to read next…”, was a gift from Rommy. The black ribbon came with a gift from Emma. See? I did not lose a breast, I just found a cool place to show off my pins and ribbons and scarves. 😀

These two might be my new most favorite pairs of earrings. How many beings get to say that they can dangle the TARDIS and two bat’leths from their ear lobes?

 

health Updates and other bits…

1. I am doing well, just busy juggling doctor’s visits and new treatment planning.
2. My inbox is full and then some. I’m not ignoring you, but… it might take me a while to get to your messages and emails and such.
3. The Beautiful Freaks Fest 2 announcement post will go live Monday or Tuesday. What? Don’t tell me you thought we would skip this year. Of course not! freakish beauty is relentless. Besides, nothing replenishes the soul (and distracts the flesh from hurling its guts out) like a wild bit of cyber-partying with awesome friends.
4. The title of this post was partly borrowed from Andrea Hutton’s Bald is Better with Earrings: A Survivor’s Guide to Getting Through Breast Cancer.
5. I don’t like even numbers, so here is an odd line… just for me (and for you, too, of course… if you want it): be good, be wild, be deliciously you… always.