My friend, Ann, had a GREAT idea. She said if I needed any fat to fill out my post-surgical boobs, she would be my Fat Donor. Can you see the women lining up to make donations to breast cancer patients or to poor, skinny individuals? It's a win-win situation. The skinny folks could gain extra pounds to look more robust without the extra money and time spent eating. Fat folks could shed unwanted pounds and feel good about helping their fellow man. You could sign up for it on your driver's license if you wanted to make a post-mortem donation, but I say why wait? This could be BIG BUSINESS!
On a more serious note, there's no news like bad news. I realized that in sharing my plight with cancer with friends and family, it spawned a brushfire in my daughter's school. Don't get me wrong, they meant well, but when teachers started sharing with her all the other people they knew who survived cancer to cheer her up, and pried her with questions, it was too much for her to take.
It got me thinking. What should one say to a child who's parent has a serious illness? We discussed it, and she said she'd prefer if people simply asked her how I was. No big interrogation on what stage, what treatment, what doctor, etc. First of all, she doesn't know (I don't even know), and secondly it refocuses her energy on the one thing she doesn't want to or need to think about - her mom's mortality. It's got to be frightening for a kid to think about losing a parent. Not that I'm going anywhere, but still. We all know too many who lost the battle.
Next week, we matachina dancers from the Our Lady of Guadalupe's feastday are reuniting for long-awaited margaritas. I need to be with my Spanish amigos again to refocus my energy on learning Spanish. Keep on swimming, keep on swimming.....
Mantener en la natación
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