learnin' to fly

and the good ole days
may not return
and the rocks might melt
and the sea may burn

i'm learnin to fly
but i ain't got wings
comin down
is the hardest thing

my hands are not soft enough. not smooth enough to rub the length of her pearly delicate legs. gently. up and down in long sliding strokes. the pain is too much, and her hand grips the gaurd rail and her thin lips disappear into a grimace of pain.

'they didn't bring the pain meds yet did they?'
'no mom, not yet. do you want me to go yell at someone? i could totally take down that little old one who was so rough with you today.'
'no no, i'll be fine. don't yell at anyone. it's not their fault.'

the skin on her legs is smooth and hairless. a little scaly, so i rub some lotion on them and then rub her feet.

'ooooh, please jesus help me get through it'. she says this outloud but i've been saying it in my head on and off for months.

despite all logic or reason. despite all the pain and agony and vomiting and shit and shit and shit, she wants to keep going. keep going with treatment, keep going with chemo, keep going with this life with us.

even though today the neuro doc tells us that her latest MRI shows a brain tumor. he would opt for surgery, if she and the oncologists agree.

i just want to get in the car and drive west until i hit california. change my name and phone number. cook things and write and sit by the water and assume a new identity. maybe i would be called veronica. we were watching some disney channel show today with a character named veronica and mom asked me if i wish i were named something like that. i said sure, that might be cool. more syllables, a little sexier sounding. 'hmm. i like the name veronica. maybe i should have named you that.'

and that's how our days go. wonderings of what ifs and what nows. tv shows and leg massages and me seething in anger towards people who don't treat her delicately or arrive fast enough or go the extra mile to get things done for her.

i wish i had a mean barky dog here at my feet.

"kujo - go attack that daffy old tech that yanked mom's leg and made her scream."
"nurse paul, would you like to get your ass in here a little faster or shall i sent kujo over to help you move over here as a quicker clip?"

he would only be mean to people in scrubs or lab coats. for me and mom he would be just like angus.

obviously my brain is a little toasted too.