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It's everything I want to tell people when they make small talk and profound talk, but I often can't. Sickness, sex, and the process of dealing with aging parents feel unspeakable and sometimes unreachable, but they sure aren't here.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Where is my body?

DSC_6045 Originally uploaded by junku.

My feet don't appear to be anywhere on the ground. It's not quite 24 hours after Aredia, a so-not-longish infusion at the outpatient infusion center. It looks like a manic yellowjacket unleashed some serious whoop-ass on my forearm. The vein is a distinct purply salmon tributary, swollen and thrown into relief against the white underbelly of my arm. My head is somewhere. Maybe it's under my covers still or hovering above the toilet looking for extra toothpaste. I can taste chemical in my mouth. It's Christmas Eve, and I am running around in shorts. There is something very wrong with that statement on the East Coast. I have to brave Best Buys now to get my sis her prezzie. I wonder if it's socially acceptable around the holidays to post warning quotes on one's forehead with a red sharpie... "Don't push me. I am not okay." -"Jumpers," Sleater-Kinney

Photo credit: "DSC 6045" by junku on flickr (click on photo for more of this artist's work).

2 Comments:

Anonymous Sue said...

It was 62 here - I raked the beds in the backyard and broke out in a sweat - too many layers.

You're a better sister than I am - I haven't even called mine yet.

12/24/2005 03:43:00 PM  
Blogger Jen said...

Plaid layers? ;)

That's a lot of work. Is there anything blooming in your garden around this time?

Eh, there's still time to contact your sis. Mine is making the effort of driving up here tomorrow *and* making dessert, so that's cool.

12/24/2005 03:48:00 PM  

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