For Lee

Good news of a sort

Finally heard back from Tulane's neurofibromatosis clinic, will be giving the name & number to Susan in the morning, when I set out on another round of flier-posting.

And Lee's talking to me again... she's finally come to understand that I never meant to embarrass or humiliate or belittle her in the least, despite how it might have bruised her ego to have someone try to save her life in public. I'm no shrink or even an M.D. by any stretch of the imagination, but from what I know of Lee, I think that the not-speaking-to-me phase was part of her depression & fear, as much as it was that she never wanted to be objectified as a circus freak or an object of pity. I can't even begin to imagine the fear and horror that she's dealing with on a daily basis --- imagine just starting out in life, finally getting a decent shake, after a lifetime of fuckovers, and WHAMMO!!! --- one twisted gene decides to fuck you out of everything that you'd worked so hard to earn. The job that she loves, the people who love her, the life that she's fought uphill for, all along --- could be so easily snatched away, out of her reach, and none of us yet know when or even how definitely.

But she's definitely back to her own self again... talking to me, bitching about Susan (the uber-yenta), giggling over the huge box of origami cranes that D. Sidhe sent her (and Susan already has ideas about suspending them from the ceiling when Lee's new bedroom that they're adding onto Susan's house when it's finished!), bitching about the stupid customers, and talking to me like she still knows me, which is the greatest gift thus far.

So, exhausted and broke as I am, prolly overdrawn 'cause I never think about the overhead when I jump into these things (hopefully it'll all balance out, some wonderful people that I don't even know have been dropping in donations to help me cover the spread with printer cartridges, postage, stationery, gas for the truck, etc., just waiting for the PayPal to transfer before the debit-card stuff clears), I am kinda happy today.

Maybe now Lee has a little more hope and a lot less denial. Susan made her sit down and explain to her mother (Lee's mother) just exactly how serious this tumor is, 'cause Lee hadn't told her yet that it really "was anything" --- she kept playing it off as some minor inconvenience, because she didn't want her mother to worry or to think that she was asking for anything.

It's amazing that all of that strong will and impressive spine can fit into such an iddy-biddy person... but then, it still amazes the hell out of me that you can hear her mouth from the back of the Fred's warehouse to the front door of the store, and when she's not even YELLING. Girl's got the lungs of Big Mama Thornton in Twiggy's body.

So maybe the universe is giving us a break on this one. Maybe Lee is getting a strong enough grip on this thing to direct all of her strength and personal power and undefeated gumption towards whupping this tumor's ass. Let us all hope.

posted by Anntichrist S. Coulter @ 6:27 PM