I had chemo yesterday, Friday, and it was a loooong day of sitting in the blue plastic recliner. First I had a 30-minute treatment with some drug to dissolve whatever was blocking my port. Then I had two antihistamines and one steriod to avoid an allergic reaction. Next I had Avastin, Taxol, and Aredia. The whole shebang took 6.5 hours, which is actually 6.75 hours longer than I ever want to be there again (using the new math).
I can't complain this morning. Eric is handsome and makes a good cup of joe. It looks like it'll be another sunny, breezy, day. I'm content.
OH, and remember the woman who asked me for my prognosis in the parking lot? Turns out that she's one of those super sen-see-tive (and least in regards to herSELF), crying, weak, the-world-must-take-care-of-me types. Apparently she has a history of having "nervous breakdowns", gaining 100 pounds, and leaving her job for a year or two. She did this twice.
SO... she wrote me an email that wasn't an apology, even though the subject line read "Apology".
Essentially it said that she's a very caring a woman, and wanted to show her concern for me, and she's sorry if her asking about me appeared insensitive.
I read it, I laughed, and I ignored it -- not knowing all of the above re: her teary, wounded, nature.
I intended to respond in a day or two with something nice, because who needs to be mean? Who has time for it?
But, when I did not respond quickly, she took her show on the road. Apparently she went crying near and far. She told many people that she-was-just-trying-to-be-nice and marthas-so-sensitve and (my favorite part) SHE CAN'T STOP CRYING ABOUT IT, and she can't sleep. She can't concentrate on her work, she doesn't know what to do...
She feels sick, her hands are shaking....
She called her sister LONG DISTANCE (Wow. Did she have to get Johnboy to drive her to Ike's store to make the call?) and cried to her sister....
So. A couple people came to me with this story, and one person came to NM with this story. I had been having a lovely day up till that point! But NM reported to me that the person she spoke with was very concerned about The Crier, and felt that I was being unrealistic in expecting no one to ask me how I'm doing. Mary explained what had REALLY happened, but seemed to think that it was the tip of the iceberg in terms of all those folks the crier had told.
Okay.
Some people are snivelers, and some people get on with their lives. At first I thought it was pretty dumb that I had to take care of the sniveler -- who had engendered so much sympathy -- when EYE'm the one who's sick. But then I saw it the larger context. I don't want people treating me like a crying child, and I don't want to be that manipulative (which is the flipside of being a crying child as an adult).
So I wrote her a sweet and funny email, and told her that of course we were friends, and that it was all good.
Her response was effusive. She wrote that she had tears in her eyes as she typed.
Whatever.
Now I'm off to get breakfast.
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2 comments:
you're a saint. i'd have pushed her down the stairs. i can't ABIDE people like that, who are basically just spoiled whingers who manipulate with crocodile tears because they don't have the smarts to do it otherwise. it's not her business and it's not her illness, so why make it about her? and yes, you're right: life is too short to be mean, but it's never too short to be overwhelmingly irritated by criers.
definitely a saint. beatification at the very least.
Okay, this made me laugh outloud. You'd have pushed her down the stairs? :) I wasn't being saintly. I was doing damage control. I didn't want her continuing to snivel about me.
Pushing her down the stairs DOES have a certain appeal...
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