a new category
March 13, 2007 § 8 Comments
Frannie and I were listening to a CD called “Kids Klassics”. A retro compilation where silly and feel good were the only criteria for inclusion in the 2-CD set. It featured the camp classic “Does Your Chewing Gum Lose It’s Flavor On The Bedpost Overnight?” and the lesser known but an equally wacky song called “Typewriter”. A lead typewriter takes center stage with all its bings and flying cartridge chachings.
That was a few years back, and Frannie complained, what’s a typewriter? Born and raised on Apples; emacs, imacs and a G4 in between, she had never heard of an IBM selectric. Insert big sad face here.
In ten words or less, I explained the evolution of typewriter to computer, never once dealing with the actual mechanics of the thing. I just hit on the obvious; we used sheets of paper and cursed our mistakes. There was no delete button, save as function, or MyLittlePony.com.
I felt like some wild west cowboy talkin’ bout the olden days to my little sweetie. Frannie concluded that her world was superior to mine. And I might have agreed, were it not for my current medical condition.
“Mom, did they have Noggin when you were little?”
“No, honey we only had a few channels and Noggin wasn’t one of them”
Her questions came fast and furious, beginning the same way.
“Mom did they have blah blah blah when you were little?”
“No” to Webkinz
“No” to ipods
“No” to Whole Food Supermarkets
“No” to tofutti cuties
“Yes” to homework and Hebrew School and brushing your teeth.
“Mom did they have breast cancer when you were little?”
OK, she didn’t asked this question, but I’ve been wondering how I might answer it if she did.
Of course they had breast cancer 40 years ago, I looked it up. One in twenty women were diagnosed with it. Is it my imagination, or were they older ladies in housecoats and moo-moos.
Today it’s one in eight, there are no age restrictions or fashion requirements.
If this trend continues, when Frannie is my age, the odds of her getting breast cancer could increase to 1 in 5. Eenie meenie miny moe. The best companies to work for will offer onsite childcare and chemotherapy clinics. At that point, I strongly recommend you call in sick and take the week off.
It’s everywhere and I am not sure why.
There are armies searching for nano cures but why do all these abnormal cells appear? What’s in the fibre of our lives that stimulates these abhorant growths? Are the Tampax guilty or is it the toilet paper? The hormone pumped meat? The over processed dairy? The plastic coated green peppers and cucumbers or the handy dandy counter cleaners?
Everyday slogging through my personal drama, I realize I am nothing more than a bit player, part of the chorus way off in row 10,326. There are thousands, hundreds of thousand in front of me. Harder cases, sader cases, younger cases, cases that are further along, cases that are fatal and then, thank goodness the rows and rows of blessed survivor cases.
We are singing statistics with dr’s far too busy to offer follow up appointments.
My last chemo treatment was yesterday. A mixed bag, but more about that another day. Anticipating a celebration, I was out buying a Thank-you card for my nurse when I came upon an “Encouragement” card.
A b+w headshot of a radiant bald women with the following message: As you battle for strength and courage and healing; remember there are people all around you, cheering you on and waiting to lend a hand.
Just what we need, another category to navigate in The Hallmark Store. Move over Birthday Cards and Bar Mitzvah Cards, Anniversary Cards, Easter, Passover and Get Well Cards. You have some company. Breast Cancer Cards.
“Mom, did you have these when you were little?