A few years ago my mother had herself a case of breast cancer. Needless to say when she said she had it we were all pretty shocked. We figured she’d get tagged with lung cancer or killed in a bar room brawl (I still have a finski riding on the latter).
But a few days after I returned to LA from a trip to the Midwest she called and let me know she’d been diagnosed. It was going to be chemo and radiation to rid her body of the anomalous growth.
Here’s something you’ll never learn on a special episode of Blossom. If you have radiation therapy, and if you get the big C you’re probably going to get radiation, is that you have to carry around documentation saying you’re undergoing the treatment. And for a while you can’t be on an airplane. The close quarters are dangerous to everyone around you. While having one of our weekly phone calls my mother explained this to me. Once I heard about radiation and it staying in your body for so long my mind started to dream of the possibilities and I had a huge amount of questions for her.
Upon telling her I had questions you could almost hear her tense up over the phone line. The reasons being:
1- I hardly ever wanted to discuss the treatments, just that they were working.
2- I hardly ever wanted to acknowledge she actually had cancer. She’s my mom, you understand.
3- She never likes any of my questions, they usually elicit a progressive use of my full name in answering (first name, then first and middle name, then first and both middle names, finally erupting in first, both middle names, and last name in complete exasperation) Sorry but I’m inquisitive and I was always told there are no stupid questions.
So our conversation went like this:
Me- Radiation? A tube you keep hooked up to be ready for the next blast?
Mom- Yes.
Me- Is it gamma radiation?
Mom- I don’t know?
Me- Well do you feel stronger? Especially in times of extreme stress?
Mom- No I’m tired a lot.
Me- Can you shoot beams out of the hole where they put the tube?
Mom- Kevin
Me- Seriously Mom I’m wondering, can you?
Mom- No I can’t.
Me- What about eye beams? Can you shoot lasers out of your eyes?
Mom- Kevin.
Me- Mom
Mom- Enough
Me- What? Laser stands for Light Amplified Stimulations of Emitted Radiation so it’s a perfectly logical question. Can you shoot lasers out of your eyes?
Mom- No.
Me- Have you tried?
Mom- No.
Me- Will you try?
Mom- No
Me- You know mom with that attitude you’re never going to shoot lasers out of your eyes.
Mom- I’m going to let you go.
Me- Wait one second, hold on…(long pause as I know she is still on the line but hasn’t said anything) Mom?
Mom- What?
Me- We’re there any spiders visible in the radiation chamber when they blasted you with those gamma rays?
Mom- Goodbye.
Me- Wait Mom put Liz on. (my sister)
Liz- Hey Kevin.
Me- Liz will you work with mom to develop her laser beam eyes?
Liz- (giggles, she’s good like that.)
Mom- (can be heard in the background) Will you tell him to shut up about laser beams?
Liz- Mom wants you to shut up about laser beams.
Me- yeah I heard. You can tell her I’ll never shut up!!! Someone in this family has to talk about laser beams. If it has to be me then so be it!!! I’ll yell about them, I’ll drone on and on about them, but by god Mom will be able to shoot beams out of her eyes if it’s the last thing I do!!!
Liz- (talking over me and to my mom) He said no. (to me) Okay Kevin I’m going to get going.
Me- Okay Liz, love you, tell mom not to give up, she’ll have super powers one day. Tell her I love her.
That’s the best I can remember it. I’m certain if you ask my mom she’ll remember being less cantankerous and more open to my ideas of heat vision or she’ll say something like “He’s an idiot.”
And before you go and dog me about giving my mother, who had cancer, a hard time there are some things you should know:
1- When she told me she had cancer I responded with “So you’re quitting smoking right?” her response- “The doctor didn’t say anything about that.” That’s right she smoked through the entire ordeal. When my brother dropped her off for her first appointment she insisted he leave and she would just take a bus to work.
2- Yes she went to work after every treatment.
3- She kicked that cancer square in it’s tumorous nutsack and then looked at it’s friends and said “Who else wants some?” Then legend has it she kicked a puppy that wouldn’t stop yapping.
But if none of that sways you and you still think I’m awful ask yourself the following questions “has one of my loved ones had cancer? Have I ever had cancer? Wouldn’t laser beam eyes be totally awesome?” If you can answer yes to the first two and you’re still upset, then you have no sense of humor and need an enema. If you answer no to the last question then you simply have no soul and are probably a pinko commie bastard.
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