Monday, April 25, 2011

The Holy Week of Weird

Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday.

Two calm days Monday and Tuesday.

Wednesday: Art class in the middle of which, got a call from Gemelli: Show up tomorrow at 7:30 am and "we'll try to get you in".

"Ah, that's a bit short notice. Can you tell me please, what surgery am I going to have? No one has told me anything. Will I be able to talk to someone?"

"Just show up. All will be revealed."

Up 'til three thirty am Wednesday night/Thursday morning getting ready.

Holy Thursday: Took 5:38 am train into the City to get to Gemelli by 6:45. Less than two hours sleep. No food or water after midnight.

After TWELVE FRACKING HOURS of waiting in the hospital, having blood tests, chest x-rays, EKG and general preparation for surgery, finally saw a doctor. First doctor I've spoken to about my situation since March 13th.

Gist of conversation: "Oh, sorry. Did we say that the surgery would be simple and non-invasive? Dear me!

"No no! What we meant to say was that we were going to be chopping out a major organ, destroying the last pathetic shreds of your hopes and dreams for the future and ruining your life forever...sorry, didn't we tell you?" (I paraphrase.)

Had total screaming, crying, hysterical melt-down, right the heck in front of everyone.

Managed, barely, to refrain from throwing things and/or running away from hospital in blind panic. Was medicated into a stupor while (almost) all my friends were at Holy Thursday Mass. (Again, thanks Greg.)

Slept for quite a little while. Woke up in hospital, not completely sure where I was or what the hell was going on.

Good Friday: Spent most of the day stoned to near-catatonia on a combination of valium and pure emotional horror, revulsion and shock.

Around noon, new doctor came in and said, "Since you don't seem to be too keen on the hysterectomy idea, how about we try this other thing."

Other thing accepted.

Went home, slept for 13 hours.

(At least, that's what I think I did. Can't remember very well.)

Holy Saturday: went into the City to go shopping for Easter Monday dinner party and bought what was probably the last two legs of lamb in the entire City of Rome.

Staggered home and slept for 13 hours.

Easter Sunday: Woke up at one pm, got dressed up with lipstick and high heels and went to the City for a party, feeling more bloody-minded and belligerent than usual.

At the party, talked loudly with a priest-friend about what a ridiculous mess this whole beatification of JPII was, and what a disaster his papacy was for the Church, while standing three feet away from George Weigel. Topped it off with a discussion of how much better things are under Benedict, who is, at least, doing SOMEthing to clean up the bloody mess his predecessor left in the Church.

Spent remainder of party sitting on a sunny balcony in Rome in party frock, Easter bonnet and Italian shades, drinking martinis and eating cake.

Went to church not entirely sober.

Staggered home and slept for 13 hours.

Easter Monday (Pasquetta): Woke up at ten past ten, briefly couldn't remember where I was, got up, went to a party down the street where I sat on a balcony, drank gin-and-tonics, ate cake and tried to avoid having the Cancer Conversation for the 56th time.

Got home, had screaming crying meltdown.

Planning on sleeping for 13 hours.

Christus resurrexit; sicut dixit.