Yes, I agree. I've seen too many melodramas lately, and I guess life starts to imitate art. That, and I was flying home from a visit with a relative who has terminal cancer. It's a dizzying and disorienting experience.
Well I just got off the phone with the radiologist. We found four lesions (metastases) on the CT scan: 2 on your ribs, one on your spine and one on your left pelvis. They're quite small at this time. Our job is to make you comfortable and to arrest the progression as best we can.
His face flushing an ever deepening red. WTF? I thought it was just muscle soreness. I thought I had another 15 years.
Observing this as a powerless son, it drives home the fact that we're here for only a short time. What parts matter? What parts linger in memory?
The clip from Shame lingers. Yes, it skirts dangerously close to the creepy. But having ridden the A express and the C local for years, I can't help but remember similar fleeting dramas. And the actress' amazing facial transition from 40sec - 58 sec captures the essence of my life. The transition from daydream to WTF am I doing here. It's that awful return to reality -- the pile of stainless steel and sheet metal (the rattling, creeking subway car), and it doesn't sort itself. But we can still dream, can't we?
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