I finally made it to see my friend yesterday (having entirely forgotten to turn up on Tuesday). I had a brilliant time but was correct in my prediction regarding the diagnosis. She turned up at the wrong house to meet me (I rescued her from jarma lady, named for her inability to wear outdoor clothes or any kind of bosom support) on her way home and off we went to her house. Lots of smiles and normal chatter about elbows, stockings and the such. Half way there she turns to me and says 'so shall we talk about the elephant in the room?' She was being deadly serious.
Bizarrely the exact same words had been said to me the day before, in jest about the fact that I was engaged. The woman who had the attention span of a gnat and was adament she wasn't interested in finding a man and acting as if that was all that mattered in life apparently had a head injury and forgot this because here we are, years down the line doing exactly that. The mere fact I still like Hairy, never mind love him is frankly remarkable. I generally had the staying power of blue tack holding up a tiger on a metal wall. He wasn't even invited to my mother's 2nd wedding because she told me there was no point inviting him to a wedding that was happening in 3 months time because I'd have got bored and dumped him by then. HP suggested we not invite her and say it was for a similar reason but I fear she may not understand the joke.
This time though, the elephant in the room was referring of course to the 'C' word. *Insert text book, if you want to talk about it we can but I clearly am not comfortable with this topic at all because I deal with it regularly at work and don't want to have to bring it home with me too*
She said 'well if you want to talk and well....know.....'
'know that I've got cancer?' says I. 'Oh my god, I can't believe you didn't tell me earlier!'
Ahem...
I did end up talking her through the more amusing aspects to attempt to make her feel better and less uncomfortable but we skirted over the majority of it. People who I've told clearly feel obliged to ask if I need to talk in a sickly sweet way you'd talk to your small child. Not everyone does this but those that do are also the same people that you find yourself comforting about the disease that you have.
Maybe I'm doing this all wrong and they wouldn't do this if I just caved into convention and cried at them in hysterical sobs about how appalling it is that I'm never going to be an avenger, have bump-less arms, grow flippers and be a penguin etc. Where you are devoid of the expected emotion, perhaps people feel the need to do it for you but personally I think it's a little strange. It's the people that actively encourage you to cry at them I find the most compelling and also the scariest to spend time with. I'm an ugly crier, it makes me really uncomfortable and I want to maintain an air of constant smiling where the person doesn't know me well enough to know when it's occasionally a big fat lie of a smoke screen, so why would I want to change my personality and leak all over them?
The trouble is you can't really predict how people will react to the sort of news likely to bum you out a bit so I haven't even anticipated when these reactions are coming a lot of time.
This blog is helping immensely though. Normally I would ignore things that made me uncomfortable because I'd just want to stop the icky feeling and pretend it wasn't there. For a few weeks I would only send messages to 2 people with long rambles about how unbelievably scared I was but that was really unfair and it's not fair to keep all the crazy in for just 2 people! This way, I get it out of my head and aimed at nobody so I can talk (type) myself into a whirlwind and then get on with normal life without losing my face half way through the day for no particular reason.
Anyway back to friend time. We had a really lovely evening. Lots of mindless chatter about what we'd been doing; how life was panning out; her love life; all the fun we'd had in the past (jam religion, road trips, the good and bad aspects of living together, belly dancing, comedy songs, festivals, accidentally moving 350 miles with her, nicknames, drunken nights and how long we'd been friends)... We were supposed to be watching a film (apparently I'm the only person on the planet that hasn't seen Frozen) but instead we talked at each other for about 8 hours. I'd really love to say we had an exchange of mutual respect and had an actual conversation but that involves taking a breath long enough to really register what the other person is saying and since I was well enough to keep up we spent most of the night juggling perhaps 6 conversations at once. I'm rubbish at multi-tasking but apparently I have a skill!
I was pretty alert for a change and was able to keep up instead of looking like a confused mole attempting to solve the meaning of the universe while cooking pancakes and riding a unicycle which has been my permanent setting for a while.
The sort of, half in the room situation where someone is having a very deep and meaningful discussion with you and you're thinking 'I wonder whether I could get away with replacing the staircase in my house with a slide and insert either a swimming pool or a ball pit at the bottom'. Then you realise they're looking at you expectantly having obviously asked you a question while you were pondering a far more interesting subject and you have a tough call to make. You can fess up and say you were distracted; you could tell them you think you're having a funny turn then pretend you've lost all memory of who you are or you can risk saying something vaguely noncommittal and hope it'll fit the situation.
This isn't something new with the joys of lumpy bumpy arm syndrome, I've always been this way. I have a sneaking suspicion that I must be at least part cat, as well as part human strawberry obviously. I think my reasons are acceptable for this conclusion. I like to sleep and play a lot. If you put something shiny in front of me you might as well stop speaking. My kitten was exactly the same. When I got my engagement ring, I spent a good few hours looking at it sparkle different colours in the light. This was fine I'm sure. HP coming home, finding me perched in an empty bath, fully clothed doing the same thing under the LED bathroom lights apparently was a little more peculiar. It's too late though right? He already knew what he was getting into so it's too late to change your mind about marrying me just because you've discovered I'm only listening to you in the absence of the presence of anything remotely shiny and/or sparkly!
So yeah - things remain pretty positive. All hail the power of really good friends.
I'm still wrapping my head around the other but I'm no longer a child so I don't really see the point in getting into a pointless confrontation about why Gabby mouth felt the need to tell anyone else, never mind someone I don't particularly like and so I think perhaps I'll park it for now. We're all the subject of gossip occasionally. It's just nicer when it's not being waved in your face!
Anyhoo, I'm on a roll and tonight I'm off for dinner and a stop over with a couple of our friends and HP. They're unlikely to mention it at all to be fair so hopefully I'm looking at a 3rd successful friend filled day in a row. How jolly fun!
