(sing it with me now...oo wee oo wee oooooo wah wah waaahhhh...)
Only a week now until the National Poetry Slam. Will our rag-tag team of crazy Delawarians (and one Philadelphian) make it to semis this year? We haven't yet, but you know what? It's all in fun. Actually, as long as we perform better than last year's team, that's all that matters to me. We mesh really well, and we are representing a brand-new venue. I hope our performances are good enough to leave impressions on people. I also hope I get to make some new friends in addition to hanging out with some people I haven't seen in ages.
I wonder if I am the only poet with diabetes at NPS. I really have no idea, but what I do know is that my husband has a poem about my diabetes and I do not. I really want to change this fact. It's just a matter of figuring out how to tackle it.
When I return from NPS, I have been offered a couple of poetry features, and I'm very excited about this fact.
Honestly, I cannot rave enough about the guys on my poetry team. Not only do I get to work with my brilliant husband and best-friend roommate, but I also get the excellent company of R & S. We have put together some work as a group that I think is pretty phenomenal. Thanks to the generally-vigilant coaching of L, we're really making something of ourselves. Also thanks to Sadako, our fuzzy, meeping unofficial kitty mascot of practice.
More good...Nigel has broken it off with The Leech. Happy dance! Happy dance!
My dad had a procedure last week on his bladder to remove a growth they found there. Turns out the growth was extremely-early-stage cancer. The bright side to all this is that chances are good they got everything. In 3 months, he'll go back to the doctor to see if anything has returned. If it has, they'll treat it. If it has not, they'll continue to watch him to make sure it doesn't come back.
Scheduled an appointment with Nancy the Nurse Practicioner for when I return from NPS. I'm rather nervous about it, as usual.
My uncle John is in the hospital now. My mom and my aunt have gone to New Jersey to clean his house, take care of his bills, talk to his lawyer, find help, etc. Tests at the hospital are showing late-stage HIV-related dementia, which is a sign of the onset of AIDS. He also has a rash on his face generally associated with the onset of AIDS.
If I think about all of this too much, I just cry. Just about a year ago, he was helping me select registry gifts for my wedding at the Macy's store where he managed housewares. Less than a year ago, he was driving me and my wedding dress to the church after a quick stop at Nana & Pap's house to borrow some slippers. He seemed thinner at Thanksgiving, but he was always wanting to lose weight. He seemed even thinner at Christmas, and my mom started to get concerned. It was downhill from there.
I'm scared in a way I haven't been before. I do not want to see my favorite uncle when he's not his feisty, snarky, "let me make you dinner sometime", Britcom-watching-self. But what really breaks my heart is I know he doesn't want to see himself that way either, whether he tells anyone else that or not.
And I don't know what's going to happen to his cats. He has 2 cats whom he loves to death, Molly & Nora, aka "The Girls". I am hoping my mom will take at least one of them--I think she's needed a cat for a while now. I know she's lonely. I'm sure Uncle John would not have his girls carted off to a shelter when they could just go live in someone else's home and continue to be spoiled, happy kitties.
I don't know what to do or what to say. Heck, I'd even take at least one of the cats if Sadako weren't so damn insistent on being the only pet.
The amount of death in today's news isn't helping to ease my mind. How am I going to learn to deal with this?