Spellbinding stories of mystic love and soulful hope . . .

[Disclaiming exclamation to my son, brothers, and mom: Dang, sorry if y'all blush at that above, or the other thang I'ma going to say later in this post (No. 4), or the cussin'  - dang.]

When you think you are sick—I mean really sick, like possibly Cancer Sick, the world takes on this kind of slow-motion aching acute weirdness. Now let me clear up right now that I am not sick (in body-haw! – my mind is a whole other issue) and I do not have cancer, and in fact, I am in solid, good, disgustingly great danged ole health. But over the last few weeks, well . . . I thought maybe my time had come, even though it made no sense to me.

I thought it was that time. You know, the time where the doc looks at me with pity and shakes his head, while I sit there stoic and wide-eyed, and as I walk out of the doc’s office, the nurses are shaking their heads, “. . . and she was one of the HEALTHY ones! Why, if she’s sick, then none of us has a chance!” Fade out, on to funereal scene where my ashes fly in an arc into the air as my friends and family shake their heads and  . . . um . . . anyway . . .

The entire thing mimicked a sitcom—the comedy or dramady—where misunderstandings, miscommunications, mistakes, missed calls and strange cryptic messages, all conspired for a perfect storm of discombobulation that led me to be convinced that Something Bad Was Wrong With Me.

It’s funny how our mind works, how it expands to take in what is complete bullshit but at the time doesn’t feel like bullshit at all—it feels Real. How like the clichéd snowball negative dark thoughts can be, flying down the hill as it grows bigger and bigger–it becomes The Blob, devouring all rational thought.

here lies Kat’s hat without Kat, and her rocks, *lilting but soaring music here*

And even though I told myself how healthy and Kick Ass I have been feeling, it seemed at every turn there was a show or magazine article about some woman who was “So healthy and vibrant!” and then it turned out some weird amoebic cell with grave intent was hiding in there allllll aloooong, just waiting to cut her down in her prime!, and without her even realizing it! Dang!

I thought about how arrogant I am about my health—I’m one lucky bitch when it comes to being strong and healthy. I have relatively few complaints, and am in great shape.  Yet, my snowball thoughts careened over how strong  and healthy and stubborn and willful and determined and sometimes really stupid I am—stupid as in ignoring injuries, or ignoring symptoms if it means I can’t get out there and do whatever the hell I want to do. The negative-dirty-snowball flew by screaming, “Yeah, that’s the person who gets sick and doesn’t know it! The one who walks around all cocky in her health! You gonna DIE! YOU ARE FUCKED!”

 

Well, sheee-iiit, of course I am going to die one day. When or how is a secret no one (yet) knows and that’s fine by me. Thank gawd I can laugh about it now, yeah. Beats walking around in a fog of “Oh crap. I ain’t ready to go. I need to finish this novel. I have to clean out my closet. I need to go see my granddaughter. I just grew out my hair and what if I lose it? (Yeah, I really did think that—omg, how vain! *snark*).”

Perfect Storm

But you know what? I didn’t think, “Whyyy meeee!” I thought, “Well, why not me?” I mean, it’s not about being brave or being tough when you face something head on and butt it like an old stanky goat. It’s about “That’s just life. We live and then one day we die, and sometimes really sucky shit happens and people die sooner than others, too soon, achingly soon, heart-breakingly soon, devastatingly soon.” No one is more privileged than someone else. No one is more special than someone else. No one gets a pass from the You Are Fucked arena, because sooner or later something comes along to end it all. Yeah, don’t most of us hope to “end it all” when we’re very old and lying in bed with a sweet smile. But, if not, then whatchoo gonna do? And I can say with certainty that way better people have gone before me, and some way too soon.

Whenever I’d have thoughts of some bucket list (and I never wrote one of those, just never have), I thought I’d want to travel abroad and do all this cool stuff like jump out of airplanes and white-water rafting while shouting “WHEEEEEEEEE! I’m still alive (for now)!”

But guess what? Nawp. Not so. My “last days” list was very very short, with one item that made me go “Really? Seriously?” and when I told GMR about No. 4, he looked at me as if to say, “Who is this woman I married?” Or maybe the look was “Can I watch?” haw!

Here’s my short list:

  1. Spend time with my family and friends—lots of time, oodles of time, time of time of time itself.
  2. Meet Ellen DeGeneres because she’s just a cool woman full of light and she’ll make me feel happy—and I don’t want a thing from her, not a thing but a hug (well, see no. 4 –haw!).  I mean, is there anyone else so full of light and hope and love and sweet and support and encouragement and fun – and we could dance.
  3. Find a spot in my woods and have one good cry and then suck it the hell up, because who wants to waste time crying when I have family and friends to spend time with.
  4. Kiss a woman—and I didn’t mean on the cheek. I meant a “Katy Perry I kissed a girl and I liked it” kind of kiss. I’ve never kissed a woman that way, I thought to myself with a “Huhn, well.”  I thought perhaps I could kill two birds with one pucker and kiss Ellen DeGeneres, if Portia didn’t mind. Haw! Yeah. Well. That’s what I thought.

That’s it. That’s my list. Oh sure, I thought how nice it’d be to travel a bit, have some gelato in Italy, or visit the Grand Canyon or Yellowstone, or have the Perfect Meal, or see the wilds of Alaska, or go to Canada, or Greece, or Spain, or Ireland, Scotland. But those hovered in the background, sort of a “If I had a lot of extra time and if family and friends could be with me while doing those things.”

rainbows and lollipops and la la la tee dah

I tell you what. When you finally sit in that doc’s office and find out how everything has been one big fuck-up and you are not “Sick” but instead A-danged-O.K., the sun shines brighter, the trees sway sweeter, the air enters your lungs and goes into your healthy body all Yippee! And there is such a feeling of gratitude for your health—because, you know there are so many who walk out of that doctor’s office with the news you thought you were going to hear and you fear for them, ache for them, but honestly you are so glad you are not one of them. At least not today. Not tomorrow. Probably not next week. So, yeah. Pass the YEEHAAAWS and the Hot Damns!

As for that list, well . . . huhn. Yeah. We’ll see. *grin*

Comments on: "When you think you’re f**ked – and not in that fun bend me over the couch kind of way . . ." (18)

  1. Lauren Bruce said:

    Top o the morning to you Kat! I LOVE this article…so I am passing along the YEEHAAWS and the HOT DAMNS and smy gratitude too girlfriend…I just went through this myself and you are spot on every detail minus the “kiss a girl” on my list.;) Love you !

  2. karenselliott said:

    Who was it that said, “I could wake up dead tomorrow, so…” Anyway. I spend as much time with people that I care about. Family (especially my son, his wife, and my grandkids) and friends are on top of that list. And realize, that no matter how hard I work at it, I’ll have regrets; but I won’t have the “I didn’t spend enough time with my family” regrets. I used to kiss my Mom and my Aunt Ang on the mouth – does that count?

    • I never kiss my family or friends on the lips. And I have no idea where the “kiss a woman” thing came from – but there you go – when you think you may be dying, the truth comes out, LAUGHING!

  3. I am wiping tears out of my eyes. I’m laughing so hard my children are coming over and asking what’s so funny. I had to close the screen and all I could say was, “Kat’s at it again.”

    Life is incredibly short, and she can be a bitch about it, too. A sweet friend of mine lost her 11 month old baby girl just a few days ago. I have three children, and my heart’s broken in so many ways for the loss. But I find myself watching my two-year-old son blow on a seeded dandelion and saying, “I make wish.” Or writing a poem about the way light hits the red leaves of the dogwood tree in my front yard. Part of me feels guilty, and the other part of me says enjoy life, learn its lessons, and my faith says there are lots of beautiful angels up there, one of them a dark-eyed baby girl, who’d kick my ass if I didn’t laugh and cry at the same time, like I’m doing now.

    Kat, you’ve won me over. I could kiss you for writing down just what I needed to read right now. *haw* ;)

    • That is so incredibly sad — :-( – and yes I understand that guilt very well — when my younger brother died at 32, I thought (and later found out my other brothers thought this, too) “WHy wasn’t it me? Why him? He had so much to live for!” As if I did not – when I did. Still, there you go -I felt guilty for surviving.

      Maybe I should set up a kissing booth and just get it all out of my system all at once *LAUGHING*

  4. Well said and following my thoughts too this week. I believe that with several very dear family and friends facing major health issues I’d be quite disconnected to not consider “what if”……just as you are. Of course being over 50 pushes those thoughts closer to the bone than when we were say 20, 30 or even 40 as well……seems the older we get the more we do wonder…..what if….and why have I been so blessed……why am I still here and not a favorite relative (my Nana) who left at just 52? Well, only God knows for sure, but that doesn’t keep us from wondering, guessing and attempting to keep that last gasp of fresh air one that continues “ad infinitum”! Like you, this week I have cherished all that much more the pleasure of time with family, whether on the phone or in person, but I haven’t done that list, ’cause I have just enough Irish in me to think that might be tempting fate too far!

    P.S. A long life is pushed longer with happy thoughts shared with everyone we meet….love your words Kat…keep ‘em comin’.

    • Yeah, sometimes it’s weird to think of becoming older – but then again, there’s no way to know if you will live to be 100, or live a few days. It’s a world of contradictions and ironies and . . . yeah.

      When our grandparents die, the parents step up, then the parents die and we step up. Then . . . oh oh *laugh*

  5. Been there, done it (even kissed a girl). I went through a period while I was writing the first draft of my trilogy where I was rushing to get it done before I kicked the bucket. Can you say melodrama? I’ve got no desire to kiss a guy, although I’ve had plenty of bro-mance in my life. I’m all for watching you at the girl kissing booth, though, Kat. Maybe if we set it up for a literacy charity or sumpthin, we could get Ellen involved. I’m sure Portia wouldn’t mind.

    Fun post, Kat. Happy I’m-alive-and-want-to-kiss-a-girl Saturday!!

    • Oh! I do that sometimes, vaughn! Where I’ll think “Okay, I can’t die until I finish this, but if I do, who can finish it for me? Let’s see . . . ” *laughing*

      Hmmm, – all for charity . . . why, we can raise all kinds of money for Ellen’s Gentle Barn :-D

  6. If you wanna kiss a girl, you picked the right one. Silly question: what’s the female version of bro-mance? Good to everything hunky-dory with you. I wake up thinking: Why was I the lucky gal to get this man? But there’s no guilt at all… a pinch of gloat maybe… but zero guilt. Have yourself a big ole dish of Yeehaw with Hot Damn sauce!

  7. Okay, so lets be honest–considering that this is such a wildly, refreshingly, incredibly honest post and the mood has been effectively set –how many of us allowed our eyeballs to run directly to #4 after reading the blog title and rapidly adding it to the reference in the very first paragraph? *Raises hand — raises two hands — purses lips …”

    What can I possibly say as I linger here within the long shadows left behind in the wake of this post, aside from the obvious, which is to verify that you’ve said what so many of us find ourselves thinking & feeling, but haven’t the courage to admit. You’re just too cool, Ms.Kat. Too danged kool for ordinary shoes.

  8. Fabulous post, Kat! I love that you took on a “why not me” attitude. Once you savor (or not? LOL) that wicked girl smootch, I want details!

    I think it’s healthy to contemplate our mortality often–or perhaps I’m just morbid. ;-P

    • laughing! – I have some “guidelines” – like, no close friends because then it’d be all awkward – like, they might fall in love with my AWESOMEnessnesss and I’m a good kisser, so you know – yeah AAAWWKWWAAARD! (LAUGHING! – just kidding! teeheheheh)

      And no tongues – maybe *LAUGHING* aw lawd — oh Kat, you are so weird

  9. Wow, I’ve been gone for awhile. Really scared me for a minute. Kiss a girl…hmmm, may have to put that on my list…wait I think I might have done that when I was 9 or so playing house….Hah! Glad you are alive and well and kicking!!!!! Kicking arse!

    (little granddaughter is here…Rio Rae! Which explains why I’ve been MIA as of late.)

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