Making Fun in Bad Times

Just now I wrote four paragraphs and accidentally hit an unknown key and it disappeared. That's the theme of the past two months-put in a lot of effort for nothing. I took two chemo treatments that didn't work and had side effects; I put time and attention into a man who clams up under pressure; I began exercising only to find that a flare made it impossible; I prepared a pile of beautiful baby room accessories and clothing and cannot begin the market on time (you can see examples below).

I am in limbo, fighting a flare without specific meds for it. I rarely leave the house due to pain and lack of energy and frequent infection. I can't start the market with my comrades next Sunday. I have prepared and prepared and I can't carry on until something ends this.

I'm still coming to terms with the rituximab failure. Four years ago, that medicine was like a miracle. In a lot of ways it liberated me, making me healthy enough to get out of the house, be with friends and family, build a market business instead of just existing on the internet. Now, one bad treatment cycle and my doctor has stopped it. The next medication choice leads us into uncharted territory.

Today I recognized that creeping self-pity and overwhelming sadness and chose some activities to fight it. I re-read Knit 2 Together, Patterns and Stories for Serious Knitting Fun. Tracey Ullman and Mel Clark put some unusual patterns and fun narrative together, and they seem better and more useful to me now that the first time I read it. I have lots more knitting knowledge and experience and more appreciation for elegant construction and a sense of design humor.

I also pulled out a box of Seinfeld dvds, and I'm going to work my way through several seasons. It is perfect for a knitting accompaniment. There's no action for me to look up and follow. Conversation is the whole show-what happened or didn't happen or should have happened, nothing too banal or trivial to discuss. In my family, where each one's opinion is too important to keep to oneself, this sounds very familiar, and the show makes me laugh like a crazy person.

I have a crockpot of my favorite flageolet beans. Interesting food is more important when you eat alone at home day after day. It's a cheap luxury and one of the few ways I can impact my disease right now.

I've promised myself to keep writing when things are bad. This account should always be about the totality of having this damn disease, not just the triumphal moments.

Peace.

South Carolina Makes Me Read

A friend in South Carolina - hmm, possibly my only friend in that state - sent me this link: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/12/nyregion/12towns.html?_r=1 about a woman who vowed on Oct. 8, 2008 to read a book a day and discuss it in a blog: http://readallday.org/.

I won't do this often, but today you are privy to my top-secret email. This was my response to S. Carolina:

Hey in South Carolina! This is the perfect way to pique my shame. I have not been reading. It's been weeks since I closed my last book, and I would say that I have no time but there really is no such thing. I could open a book and keep it bedside to peruse instead of bedtime tv and midday Scrabble breaks. I could put a rack in the new bathroom and furnish liturature for the prolonged visits. I could even pop a borrowed cd into my cd player in the car and hear a story or two. I miss it and I have no excuse. I admire what this woman has done. I've ready about 20-30 of the books (so many titles from the past tickle my memory but do not give me a clear picture). I've read maybe 30% of the same authors, or more. She hit some of my favorites: Martha Grimes, my two favorite Japanese authors (they might as well be named Yamaguchi and Itchiguchi for the trouble I have recalling their names), my science fiction loves - Orson Scott Card and Ursula Le Guin and Octavia Butler (I'd read all of theirs including the ones she read), Joyce Carol Oates, Walter Mosley, Toni Morrison, Tana French. Overall, her list could be used for one of good varied reading, especially fiction. ...and E. Danticat! what a pearl she is. I'm still being reminded of things I've read and should read, favorite authors that I've abandoned in favor of - primarily - knitting and crochet.

What I didn't say to my friend was that I am going to the book shelf immediately. I will place a book on my night table, and it will be read. The last books I read were a young adult series about an alternate world with vampires and demon hunters: City of Bones, City of Ashes, and City of Glass. I finished them several weeks ago after my daughter recommended them, and I was impressed that they were much more intelligently conceived and written than the Twilight series. The plots were complex, the characters believable, and the sci-fi grounding held up nicely.

Of course, when I say I'm not reading that does not count knitting, crochet, and general crafting literature. Those books and periodicals are ever present, part of learning more about my trade and producing the goodies that I work on daily. That declaration also doesn't take into account the reading I do on the Internet daily. I might spend an hour going from blog to news to opinion site any time I open my laptop. This "machine" is tantalizingly full of information and entertainment, and if I allowed myself I could read all day right here. Not allowed, however. I'm going to the book shelf.

Peace.