An orange beverage dispenser of Hot Apple Pie broke me last night. It brought on a moment that makes me feel like I am Ebenezer Scrooge getting a visit from a ghost, not Christmas Ghost but Cancer ghost.
We were asked to play music for a wedding reception last night. We committed to this long before we knew I had cancer. We discussed cancelling but everything is normal until it’s not so we really couldn’t find a reason we needed to. We were going to be around people we knew and we had been promised a laid back atmosphere. We were in the company of good people, good vibes and it was Halloween themed party. We were both having fun.
When the container of Hot Apple Pie came out Carl wanted a sip. I haven’t been officially told by anyone so far not to drink, just think about reducing sugar and no soy. Even so I I know it is a good idea to eliminate or at least drastically limit my alcohol intake which wasn’t much to begin with. I brought flavored water for the night.
I stayed back and watched Carl walked over to the beverage dispenser. Our friends were gathered around it, all laughing and smiling. One looked over Carl’s shoulder and offered me a drink. I said no and indicated I was on water for the night. She was very understanding and moved on to the festivities. My gaze moved slowly over the crowd in front of me laughing and enjoying life but then it fell on the orange container with the apple pie in it and a tear began to form.
In these it is like I’m no longer there physically. I’m standing to the side watching everything go on around me but I’m not really there. I’m watching a moment and then thoughts of ”what if” wash over me. A lump forms in my throat. Delicate tears pool together and make the beginning of big ugly tears. The internal thought reel inside goes into overdrive with the what ifs until there is a break. Then begins the protective voice that I imagine to be the like the characters from “Inside Out”.
“Get it together. Stop this. It isn’t going to end well if you don’t get out of here. You have no where to go. Hide the eyes behind the hair. Stare down at the phone. What are you even crying about? You don’t know? Great we are sitting here crying and we don’t even know why. You know someone is going to ask you what’s wrong if they see you. Hide! Hide! You are crying over Hot Apple Pie? You are crying over happy people? Damnit Valerie abort! Abort!”
Voices in my head trying to protect me
These moments don’t last long. I did get away for just a bit to collect myself, luckily without having to tell anyone I was crying over a container of hot apple pie. Within a song and half I had collected myself and was better. I came back and enjoyed the rest of my night.
Cancer is sitting on my chest literally. I don’t notice any physical effects right now but this soaking into my brain is becoming more noticeable. Most times it’s dancing around in there somewhere very quietly. Sometimes it falls so quiet that it feels like it is not there at all until an orange beverage container challenges it. When this happens it throws a short lived temper tantrum. I bounce back from these pretty quick but they do happen. I just need time and space to get my composure when this happens. I need people to continue on as if it isn’t happening. I need them to continue living in the moment because as soon as I regain composure I’m counting on joining them in that moment without ugly tears drowning it out.
